


An Unholy Union

by virtualpersonal



Series: Dance With The Devil Verse [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Desire, Desperation, Emotional, Hot, M/M, Need, Sexy, Sexy Times, pretend pet or slave dean, push and pull
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 17:42:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 61,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3986998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtualpersonal/pseuds/virtualpersonal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean found that getting together with Spike is one helluva way to blow off steam. Now he’s addicted, but there are so many reasons why there can’t be anything more between them.  Sequel to Dance With The Devil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://photobucket.com)  
> 
> 
>  
> 
> Co-authored by ArtofMayhem

Sitting on a metal railing high above the mostly male patrons of the nameless club in the old foundry, Spike swung his leather clad leg back and forth to the thrumming beat of the music and the silver flashes of light that danced across faces. Faces… so many of them… laughing, kissing, twisted up in expressions of desire and bliss. The rough sort. The sort between people that would have nothing to do with each other outside those metal doors. Vampires and humans, demons and their enemies… fucking, drinking, taking from each other what they would never admit they needed.

He lifted the beer bottle to his lips as he scanned for someone interesting. He was getting to be right picky these days. And then he felt it. It was _him_. Back again. Smirking, he didn’t bother to look in hunter boy’s direction. Dean would find him. Always did.

The Impala was parked, locked up and the metal door Dean was familiar with was pulled open. Again, as before, his senses were assaulted. Loud music. The smell of liquor. And sex. Dean was here for only two of those things, there was no mistake about it. The determined look on his face had people moving to get out of his way. He threw a quick glance about. It was the same as always... people kissing, fucking, dancing, feeding.

Moving to the bar, he ordered a beer. Once his eyes adjusted to the flashing lights and the dark, he more intently started searching. There was only one thing he was searching for. 

A Vampire.   
Dean knew exactly who and what had brought him to return. It was something he hated to admit even to himself. He shouldn't be leaving Sam alone, not with demons running loose, but there was this need. Desire. A hunger inside him that grew each day. Ever since that day he first set foot into this damn place. He had been looking for a fight but found something different stead. It really pissed Dean off. He didn't need this kind of feeling. Not at this time in his life. Not with what little time he had left.

Dean pushed away from the bar, twisting and squeezing his body around others, feeling eyes on him and hands trying to caress. It wasn't till he looked up and saw white hair and leather pants that he found his target. And he didn't even have to see his face to know the bastard was smirking. Stairs. Dean’s boots landed on the metal as he started to make his way up.

Spike dropped off the railing, his trench coat billowing and his heavy boots giving off a shower of sparks as he landed with precision on the metal stair directly in front of Dean. “Looking for me, pet?” Leaning down, he brushed his mouth across Dean’s, pulling away just as the hunter parted his lips. 

Dean grabbed Spike by the collar and jerked him close. Annoyed the vampire was teasing but that was their game. Tease, give, and tease again. He pulled him close, tipped his head. "And if I said no?" Dean asked.

Heat coursed straight to Spike’s cock, just like that. Gazes locked, he copied Dean’s movement by tilting his head as far as he could. “Could be I’d be disappointed. Could be, you’d leave with less than what you came for.” 

"Could be." Dean answered and stepped up to that same step, making them yet closer. His feet, one on either side of Spike as they shared the stair and Dean held onto the railing to keep his balance. "I don't know, how good do you look when you pout?"

Heat radiated from the hunter’s body, surrounding Spike. Between that and the unholy light behind those green eyes… obsession, something Spike knew all too well… Spike was already rearing to go. He stepped closer, so close he was pushing Dean to the edge with his body. “Not as good as I look with my tongue down your throat, yeah?” He bit his lip and cocked his head to the side.

Dean lowered his eyes to look at those full lips. His heels had slipped off the edge but his arm still held him in place. He couldn't resist it any more. His body was on fire. He could feel his jeans tighten, his cock filling. He wanted. Needed. Dean leaned in, at first giving the vampire a hunger laced, eager, kiss. However, he managed to slow it down and pushed his tongue into Spike's mouth.

The speed with which Dean started deep throating him startled the Vampire. But that was the hunter’s allure… that he _could_ still surprise the vampire who thought he’d seen it all, knew it all. Fuck… this wasn’t the direction it was supposed to go, but Spike took it … took Dean’s tongue and his lust. It would have been easy, so easy to just drag the hunter to room or behind a pillar, but it wasn’t his way. There were games to be played first. Foreplay. 

Spike mercilessly forced Dean back farther, so far, that the hunter was staying on the stairs only by sheer will. He stroked Dean’s arm, the boy’s muscles were hard… straining under his jean jacket as he clung to the railing. He felt so bloody good… smelled so bloody good, like sex and liquor… and danger, there was always that. And Spike knew the exact moment Dean had enough… the moment he started pushing back.

Dean pulled away slowly, though not far due to the lack of space. He glanced behind Spike before looking back into those piercing eyes, "Go up?" He asked with a nod of his chin in the direction. 

Spike took a backwards step up, put his hand on Dean’s shoulder, and kept going, but forced Dean to always remain one step lower. “Like the view from up here,” he said, enjoying the brief moments of being taller, as well as being able to see the outline of Dean’s thick cock pressing against the front of his jeans.

Dean took one step at a time, following Spike. The vampire didn't have to pull, Dean was all too willing to follow. His eyes were drifting down to Spike's leather pants and the hint of what was under them. "Hmm, it's an interesting view." His hand reached out, hooking fingers into the waist band of Spike's leathers. Reaching the last step, Dean placed a boot up on the landing that Spike was now standing on. He pushed up and was now standing and looking slightly down at the other man.

They stood there for a long moment, bodies touching… aching, straining. One tug on his waistband, and Dean’s cock was lodged low against Spike’s belly. He arched, rubbing himself against Dean, giving the hunter a taste of what was to come. “Want you up there,” he said, jutting his chin upwards toward the rafters where there was a ledge and a window with broken panes. “Want to fuck you so hard, you’ll remember for a long time… you’ll wank to it every night you’re away, you won’t care if your brother hears, you won’t be able to stop yourself in the shower… you’ll remember,” he vowed, his voice thick with lust.

Dean lowered his long lashes, dusting his lightly freckled cheeks. The words melted into him and if only Spike knew, Dean had been thinking of the damn vampire often. Too often for his liking. Dean tipped his head up toward the rafters, spotting where the man was indicating. He then turned his greens back and he smirked, "Lucky for you, I'm not scared of heights." Just flying was all. 

With one last rock of his hips, he looked around and started to figure out a way to work up to that ledge and the window. "I have to say, you are very cocky," Dean smirked as he pulled away and started to make his way along toward a ladder which he could climb to get up. The drink he had was left behind. He wasn't gonna need it.

There was no arguing with the truth so Spike didn't. Instead, he followed Dean towards the wall, knowing full well the ladder wasn't getting him all the way up to the roof window... not even close. He was a resourceful sort though, no doubt about that, and this would be bloody interesting at the very least. 

He stood behind as Dean aligned the old narrow ladder that had seen better days. "Wait," he stopped Dean just as the guy started to test the ladder with his weight. "Take it off," he ordered, already tugging on Dean's jean jacket, and then helping him pull the black tee shirt up over his head. "Fuck..." Sliding his palm across Dean's tight abs, he kissed his neck. "’Luck, luv."

Despite his casual words, the way his body was raging, he could have taken Dean right there. Exerting iron control over his desires and the needs of the demon that roared within, Spike stepped back and watched. His gaze was laser focused on Dean who, without a backwards glance, was making the dangerous climb. When he neared the top of the unsecured ladder, it swayed... slid against the wall. Every muscle in Spike's body tensed as Dean threw himself toward a chain hanging from the rafters... grasped it, and swung himself to a beam, nailing the landing. Muscles rippled across Dean's shoulders, and when the chain swung slightly, the glimpse of his chest now slightly shiny with sweat had Spike biting his lip and clamping down on his needs.

It was all a bit shaky. Damn but this place was falling apart and Dean felt lucky he was nimble enough to catch his balance. Dean's attention was now fully focused on the jump before him. One more landing and he was there, if he didn't go out the damn window. Shifting his stance, flexing fingers, Dean started to move but then something landed beside him and he had to catch his balance. His head jerked to the side and he flashed Spike a look. "Bastard," came the mutter under his breath. What he got in return was a cheeky grin. Worse, Dean's concentration was lost.

"Come on. Together," Spike said, opportunistically putting his arm around Dean's bare waist. "On three." It was a silent count, and they jumped in unison, landing side by side with no room to spare on the ledge. Both men had one arm out to steady themselves against the wall, and window. 

Spike had left his trench coat behind and was wearing only a tight black tee shirt. With his bare forearm and elbow, he broke some additional panes of glass, clearing the area so that columns of wood window framing were now mostly free of glass. When he turned, his eyes were filled with the heat of having waited too long, wanting too long. 

He pushed Dean up against the wall, away from the edge, and plastered himself over him, seeking his mouth with all the hunger of predators of his kind. Lust slammed full force into him. "Come on _pretty boy_ , show me what you've got," he demanded, grinding his hips roughly against Dean. "Come on.. fuck me... fuck..."

Once Dean got his balance back and before he could regain anything else, he found his back hitting the wall, his mouth surging to meet Spike’s full lips. There was hunger in them both. A lust that was overwhelming. The kiss was long and hard, but when Spike finally tore his mouth away, Dean was allowed to suck in much needed air. His hands were instantly at Spike's pants, working them open. Dean was hard. Very hard. He hadn't been this hard even for a woman.

"You want me to fuck you, Mmm, I'll take that pleasure," Dean surged in and nipped Spike's neck with his teeth just as he pushed his down into Spike's pants, gripping that full cock and stroking. "I'm gonna enjoy this," Dean breathed.

“Makes two of us, mate.” Tipping his head back, he watched Dean from under his lashes, groaning and thrusting into Dean’s fist. There was no bleeding way he was letting Dean do the fucking. It wasn’t what he’d meant when he’d said it, but sodding hell… the thrill in Dean’s voice was giving him second thoughts. Nah… he knew what Dean wanted… needed. He liked to fight… to try to stay in control, and to go down in flames when he failed. Thoughts of how he was going to take the hunter teased him… images of the hunter trapped, both in the throes of lust and in by the manner of his taking, heightened Spike’s need.

Impatient, he undid his pants, giving Dean better access. “Pull it out,” he demanded, as he roughly undid Dean’s belt. “Want to feel you. Now.”

Curling his hand around Spike's cock, he worked him as only a man would know how to, his fingers sliding over tight skin. A tremble wracked Dean’s body. A physical shudder which rattled his bones.

“Bloody fucking hell…” Spike hissed.

Dean lowered his head to look down between them, watching as his hand worked up and down. He smeared little pearl drops with his thumb, making Spike's crown shine. Looking up, Dean stole a kiss as his the sound of his own breaths and heart beat fiercely in his ears.

He suddenly became aware that his belt was being pulled off and gave Spike a curious look, not sure what was up. All Dean knew was that there was hunger… tension… a need between them that was an overwhelming force.

The questions and hunger in Dean’s eyes was almost his undoing. Pushing Dean’s hand off, Spike bit his lip as his cock strained insistently toward Dean… needing the pressure that was suddenly denied. Gritting his teeth, Spike pulled his own belt completely free off his belt loops and held both straps out, letting them swing free. “Give me your hand.” As he started to wrap one of the belts around Dean’s palm, he was more than aware of the sudden tension in the hunter, a stiffening of his stance… waves of suspicion roiling off him.

Dean couldn't help it. He had been at the mercy of some supernaturals who had only one thing on their mind, his death. Even when Dean asked for it. Sort of like he was doing now. His arms tensed and he had to fight the urge to pull away. But he did gift Spike with a warning look from under his lashes. All the vampire did was given a little chuckle as he jerked on a strap to make sure it was secure. "What is this for?" Dean's voice was still laced much too heavily with need.

“Other one.” Spike started wrapping it, but could see he was about to have a rebellion on his hands. “So you can avoid the glass when I’m fucking you,” he said, raw desire roughening his voice. To clarify, he nodded toward the window. “You’ll need to hold on. Not much room, yeah? And it’s a long way down,” his gaze swept down to the dancers far below. There was no way Dean was standing behind him, up here… the git would probably step off the ledge as he came-off, or some such nonsense. “Any other questions?” 

Dean curled the one hand that was wrapped into as much of a fist as he could and it was tempting to just punch the vampire. He had been teasing him earlier. And Dean should have known. Once the other hand was finished Dean quickly reached out for the window's frames just to keep himself from falling over as his jeans were taken down with his boxers.

"Easy there, don't want to damage anything vital," Dean gave a smirk. That smirk didn't last long as he was turned around and now he was thankful he had the belts around his hand as his was forced to grip the wooden frames that previously held the glass panes to keep from falling out. He looked down and just the thrill of possibly falling was keeping him hard, not to mention the feel of Spike at his back. "C'mon, keep your promises."

Spike ran his hand firmly up and down the center of Dean’s back, pressing and pushing him closer to the broken window. It was pitch black outside, and all that the human could see was probably the moon, and car lights as they pulled up or left the car park. Course when Dean turned to look at him, he could see the dance floor below.

Gripping Dean’s hips, he bent over and skimmed his mouth across the taught skin stretched across his broad shoulders. “No tattoos… I’d have taken you for a tattoo man,” he said, working his way to the guy’s throat and intentionally keeping a bit of space between their bodies. “Give me your mouth.” 

"You would just love to mark me as your property wouldn't you," Dean was trying to hold back the shiver that wanted to race down his spine from the touches of Spikes wet mouth. "Maybe if you are a good boy, I'll let you," of course if Dean got one, he would make sure it was some kind of symbol that would keep him from being possessed or the like. In his world, that was more important that getting 'Mom' or Spike's name on him. That and tattoos were markings that were hard to get rid of and could easily be used by the police to identify him.

Unable to resist the vamp’s request, Dean turned his head and leaned a little to meet those lips. He jerked slightly as he felt a strong hand slide to his cock and cup him once, before slowly stroking up his aching cock. Dean deepened the kiss and jutted his hips into Spike’s hand for more contact, more friction, something Spike wasn't to willing to give up at the moment. Choosing to play with Dean's desires first and work him into a frenzy. Damnit, but this vampire knew what strings to pull. It was dangerous, but then again, wasn't that why Dean was here seeking the vampire out? Why he kept coming back?

Spike managed to lube Dean up, and continued to stroke him with nice, easy slides of his fist around the hunter's cock. Too nice. Too slow for the hunter, who was getting more impatient and frustrated by the minute. All of his building frustration was exhibited by the growing violence of the kiss, and Spike knew it was because Dean's mouth was the only part of him free to move. He couldn't move his leatherbound hands for fear of getting cut or losing his balance, he couldn't move back as there was no room for Spike... he had to stand there and take whatever he got. "A bit eager, there, aren't you, _pretty boy_?" 

Dean had to close his eyes, turn them away or it surely would have given away too much of what he was feeling inside. He dropped his head down, breathing hard and hearing his pulse beat within his ears. "Eager, impatient, but one thing, not pretty, adorable, I'm adorable. Now, you gonna play games or you wanna hear me moan out your name?"

Grasping Dean’s chin, Spike forced him to turn back. “Adorable, yeah that’s it.” He took the hunter’s mouth with his, fucking it with his tongue in a no holds barred battle that scorched him from his mouth to his cock, as he bucked hard against Dean’s entrance, rubbing himself into a frenzy of need and desire. His cock throbbed and ached, teased and was teased. “Go on then.. do it. Call my name,” he said thickly, starting to push his crown inside.

Dean rocked and moved with Spike’s bucking, feeling the heat building and their desires coming to a head much like a storm. Everything between them, every touch. Every caress. Every kill seemed intensified. Dean gritted his teeth, there was no sense in giving in to the vampire just yet so instead, he answered just before the vampire breached him, "You have to ... earn it." And then he gasped, feeling his breathing seize up as pain and pleasure over took his body.

The next sixty seconds took forever as Spike moved his hips in circular motions so slow, they might be imperceptible to anyone looking up from below. His torturous shallow strokes were accompanied by dirty words he whispered in Dean’s ear, the sort that would slip past his mouth during and all-out fuck. By now, the hunter had to be wanting to smash him into the wall... and it fucking thrilled the vampire.

Dean growled, felt his fingers tighten into wood. It was more torture. It was more of control. It was the calm before the storm. His head fell back, onto Spike's shoulder and curses were half whispered out through clenched teeth. All directed at Spike but then he would turn his head and try to kiss the vampire. "Damnit, fuck me."

“Right. Thought you’d never ask.” Though he was at the end of his control, Spike managed to dip his head and slide the tip of is tongue across Dean’s mouth, in one last triumphant tease before his urges took over. He pushed himself further inside, this time burying himself up to his balls, tipping his head back at the intensity of pleasure rippling through his system. “Fuck... you’re so fucking tight.” 

That was it... he started to fuck his hunter... riding him mercilessly, thrusting so hard... so deep, Dean’s body would remember this for days to come, even if he mentally tried to forget or deny... The thought that Dean would even try to deny this inexplicably enraged the vampire, causing him to fuck harder... claim his boy harder, scraping his teeth against Dean’s throat and torturing himself in the process.

Dean let out grunts, near cries and more curses as he was fucked. Scratches were left on his body, his cock was aching from Spike tugging it and his arms shook as he braced himself to try and keep from falling out the window. He was caught in the eye of the raging storm and it was a storm his body was gonna feel for days, remember for weeks.

Dean let out a gurgle, his body shaking as a burning sensation traveled up from the base of his spine to his brain. He was close to being finished. He knew he couldn't hold back and keep from releasing. Suddenly, he let out a loud cry laced with Spike's name.

The instant Dean made good on his promise to call his name, Spike climaxed deep inside him, gripping his hips and riding every last fiery wave of his release. “Good... so good,” he praised, sliding one hand up Dean’s abs to his chest and tweaking his flat nipple just to feel the hunter collide against him one last time in shock. 

Dean trembled. The wake of his release and Spike's raced through his body. His breathing was still hard and Dean swore his knees were gonna give in if it wasn't for the fact that Spike was holding him. Finally, Dean moved one hand, reaching it behind him to touch firm muscles with just finger tips. Dean couldn't help but give a little weak laugh, "Yeah, been told that." Though Spike, well he was fucking amazing. Dean never knew sex with a man could be like this and he, of all people, would enjoy it. God, he has fallen so far. And he was gonna go even further.

“And you call me cocky,” Spike asked, amused, though his voice was a bit shakier than normal. “Careful, might wake up the demon and I’ll need another go at it,” he warned as Dean’s touch sent little jolts of excitement to him, though he was spent.

“Hold on,” Spike warned and pulled back slightly to take care of cleaning them up, though the scent of sex still clung to them like a second skin. Zipping up, he carefully bent, and pulled up Dean’s jeans as well, since the hunter couldn’t do it for himself. 

“Come on Cinderella, clock’s striking twelve,” he said, with a smug smile. It was a good thing the hunter couldn’t see the wicked mischief in his eyes. “Let go of the bars.” It was a velvety whisper against Dean’s ear, a soft command that Spike knew Dean would follow. The instant Dean obeyed, the vampire swept him in his arms, princess style, and jumped off the ledge.

Everything was a blur and Spike's voice, his whispers sounded as if they came from a distance. Dean just flowed with what Spike was doing, even the word of _Cinderella_ slipped past Dean's defenses. But when he was scooped up and found himself dropping, Dean's eyes went wide, his heart raced and gave a short shout.

Spike nailed the landing about two stories below, and slowly released Dean. This time, there was no hiding what was in his eyes. Or Dean’s for that matter. No, the vampire couldn’t say the hunter was amused. Not in the least bit.

Upon landing and finding the ground back under his feet, Dean drew back and punched Spike. "Bastard," he hissed, then surged in and kissed him.

“Bet you say that to all the boys,” Spike muttered against Dean’s lips, allowing himself to get manhandled. Now that they were back firmly on the ground, the hunter deserved to take control... get back a bit of what he’d lost up on the ledge. He was shoved and kissed and pushed all the way to the stairs, and even dragged roughly down to ground level. Right...end of the road.

Pulling away his swollen mouth, Spike stared at him. “I’ll be seeing you again?” He knew he would. He knew it as surely as he knew what would happen if he walked out into the sun.

Dean looked up to the ledge, his own lips still burning from the kissing. He was leaving clothing behind but he had his jeans and the keys to the car where in his pocket as well as his wallet. Dean looked back to Spike. "Maybe, when I'm in town." Dean winked at him before turning and walking away.


	2. Chapter 2

Weeks passed. Long weeks in Dean's eyes. It was as Spike said. Dean's body ached and longed. Though giving credit to Dean, he found he didn't actually jack off in front of his brother, but the shower, that was another case. It had been especially bad for the first couple of days after he’d left Spike, when his body still ached. 

Snow was starting to fall and the weather had gotten drastically cooler. Dean and Sam had already been across the country and back and found themselves in a town just north of where Dean had been hooking up with the vampire. They had just finished up a case, killied a Weindego and now it was time to unwind.

"Dude, are these things getting wiser to us or are we just ..." Sam shook his head, dropping onto his bed.

Dean wasn't listening as he was changing his shirt and pulling on a jacket. "I think we’re just tired. We need a break." Dean finally answered as he grabbed his keys.

"Where you going?" Sam asked in sitting up.

"Out." Dean answered as he checked his wallet then looked to Sam. "What?" He asked as his brother gave him a look. "I'm going out to get us some food." Which was a lie. "But you know," he was heading for the door.

"Let me guess, you aren't back get my own." Sam rolled his eyes. "Will you just ... call me, okay, if you aren't coming back." Sam tossed Dean his cell phone. Seeing he was gonna leave it.

Dean caught it and rolled his eyes, "Fine." He was out the door and soon the Impala was barreling the 100 miles distance to get to the only person who could dull the ache that had been inside dean for a while.

As Dean pulled up to the club, his stomach started to tingle with excitement and he cursed himself for acting like a girl. After scanning the place, he moved over to the bar, "Beer," he waved to the bartender, "And a question."

The blue haired demon bar tender moved over and wiped a wet bottle with a towel, before setting it in front of the hunter. “Turning into quite the regular, aren’t you?” He was inquisitive by nature and dammit, if you drank at the bar, you should expect some chit chat. “What can I do you for... or if it’s doing you’re wanting, I’m off in oh... four hours.”

 

Dean gave the bartender a look, demons were not at all on his list of things to 'do' except to kill. "Looking for someone." Dean threw some money on the counter, "Vampire. White spiked up hair, likes to wear leather and has those ‘come fuck me’ eyes.'”

The demon palmed the money. “Louis fits that bill quite well and has a thing for blood dolls,” he pointed at a tall vampire with long, silvery hair, standing near the band and enjoying a drink. “Just tell him how good he looks, that one likes to be flattered,” he rolled his eyes and started to move away.

 

Dean gave the demon a look, an annoyed one, "I said spiky hair. Short like mine," but the Demon was walking away. Dean snorted in frustration and wandered around, looking for Spike. 

The music thrummed around the hunter. Bodies came together in dance and in long, hard gropes. Men in jeans... in leather. One of them felt himself get pulled back from his dance partner, and turned to find Dean staring him in the face. “What the fuck? Hey... you want in on this?” he ran his hand through his short hair thinking about the possibility of a three way with a human sandwiched between himself and the other Grolich demon.

Dean swore, irritated by the flashing lights and the growing need in him to find the vampire. He thought he’d found him, but no. Instead it was some other guy with dark mascara around his eyes. Glaring, Dean shoved him away. "No, thought you were someone else. Should have known better, he has better taste." 

He walked away, searching, seeking and more annoyed by the minute. He swore, the next person he mistook for Spike was gonna get punched from pure frustration. While searching, he snagged a few more drinks. What was in them, he didn't care. All he wanted was the burn clear down his chest.

People standing on the stairs or higher levels watched as a sea of dancer parted. Some guy was starting to make a nuisance of himself, pushing and shoving people around. Death threats were freely shouted alongside swear words and suggestions as to who or what he could go fuck. It was as if he was deaf to their words, walking with single mindedness on a mission no one could fathom.

A seven foot giant bouncer moved in front of the hunter. “Calm your shit. You know the rules... fuck or be fucked, but start a fight and you’re out.” He didn’t have to stand close to the hunter to smell the liquor off him.

It wasn't till Dean ran into the lumbering giant that he backed up and looked up. Dean's green eyes shined with a glassy drunk film in the lights that flashed. He raised an eyebrow then gave a laugh. "Rules. You bastards break the rules every chance you get. Fuck you."

“Not in here, asshole... or I’d be tearing you a new one right now,” the hulking demon growled.

“I got him, he’s cool. Come on, I’ll give you cock like you’ve never had.” It wasn’t for nothing that people called him Extra, the way he was hung. Any human who demanded he wear a condom was out of luck, they just didn’t make them that large. Extra had been lusting after this sweet little human hunter for a long time. This was his chance. Wrapping his arm around the hunter’s back, he leaned in and forced his tongue down his throat.

Dean placed his hand on him and pushed him away then drew back throwing a punch then a kick. He was a fighter and he knew how to fight against those where were bigger than him. "Not in your life time, fuckwad." He charged after him, throwing his body at Extra, sending him crashing into tables and dancers.

There was a reason fighting wasn’t allowed. Considering the patrons... the place was like a tinder box ready to go up in flames. Someone got hit... someone got shoved too hard, and then the punches would start flying. 

Extra came back and hit the hunter back with everything he had., not even the hulking bouncer could cow him in the heat of a fight. The bouncer dove into it, but it was too late... others got involved. Bones cracked. Curses rent the air. People shouted and fucked to the sounds of fighting… to some the pheromones that were released by high emotions were like aphrodisiacs.

The demon hunter was outnumbered, though he gave as good as he got. Many a grunt was due to the inopportune landing of his boot in a mouth or against a chest or head. 

Dean was paying for his actions but at least he was feeling alive. He was tossed around like a rag doll at times, getting cuts on his back. Bruises were gonna show on his chest and arms. It wasn't till he stumbled back and fell over that a swarm of the patrons grabbed him.

Dean thrashed and cursed, shouted at the top of his lungs for them to put him down. They ignored his shouts and Dean was soon flying out the door.

"Stay out and don't come back."

* * *

One night later, Spike lounged outside a motel room until he saw Sam walk out and head for a liquor store across the street. He’d probably be back in five, maybe ten minutes, the vampire reckoned.

The motel door was slightly ajar. Considering it an ‘invitation,’ Spike slipped inside. The room was sparse. Two beds, a nightstand and a telly. And a scent that would draw the vampire out anywhere... _his_ scent. 

That and the thought that Dean might already be naked made the vampire go hard as he walked toward the sound of the shower. He pushed the bathroom door open, then locked it behind him without turning around. _He_ was there, behind that moving curtain. Spike could smell his need. Any moment now, he’d start touching himself, if he hadn’t yet.

Unceremoniously opening the curtain, Spike leered at Dean, his heated gaze traveling up and down his water slicked fit body. “Heard you were looking for me. Know how to cause a stir, don’t you,” he drawled.

Dean jerked his head around only to see the man he had been looking for not too long ago. Green eyes blinked through water striking his skin, and then Dean lashed out and punched Spike. "Fuck off," Dean jerked the curtain closed.

Spike wiped the blood off the corner of his mouth, and licked it. So the hunter was worse off than he’d thought. 

Grasping the curtain again, he pulled it all the way to the side and stepped inside fully clothed, into Dean’s space... in his face, with hardly any room for either of them to move. “You can hit me. If that’s what you need.” His blue gaze never wavered from Dean’s greens.

Dean narrowed his eyes, wiping the water from them as he glared at the vampire. "You better get out of here, my brother will be back soon." It was taking everything in Dean to restrain himself. But it wasn't from punching Spike again. It was that damn longing he had. The one that had been burning inside him like a fire that threatened to take him over. The one that caused him to get into the fight.

Suddenly, Dean grabbed, fingers curling into leather, and he jerked the vampire forward so their lips could meet in a searing demanding kiss. His tongue invaded and tasted the blood, but also tasted more. Spike was becoming like a drug that Dean needed just to keep rational and functioning. It shouldn't be like this. Dean was a hunter. Trained to kill the supernatural and yet all he could think of was getting fucked whenever Spike was around him. 

Their teeth clinked... had to hurt, but Dean didn't give any sign of it. All Spike knew was that Dean was practically mauling him, kissing him with the same pent up aggression he'd let loose in kicking arse at the club. Spike was on the receiving end of a tongue fucking, so hot, so desperate, so bloody aggressive, it was a good thing he was a vampire and could take it. Sliding his hand behind Dean's head, he kissed him back, leaning into his naked body... groaning when he felt Dean's leg stick, and slide, and stick again as it moved against the surface of Spike's now wet leather pants. 

The friction was what Dean needed. It made Dean shiver and if he concentrated hard enough he could probably get off. But that wasn't what Dean wanted at the moment. As he continued to kiss Spike, his hands pressed between their bodies and he was undoing the belt and fasteningss of those leather pants. Once he got them open, Dean pulled back, breaking the kiss and dragging air into his burning lungs. He grabbed at the leather coat, pushing it off Spike's body and tossing it out of the shower. It mad a loud wet noise as it thumped to the floor.

The floor was a sopping mess, but neither man seemed to notice. This was the first time Spike had seen Dean in a fully lit place with no strobe lights, no music to break into his concentration, and he was drinking in every inch of that powerful oh-so-fuckable body. Then it sank in... some thing new... something just for Spike. Right there, slightly over his heart, Dean had been inked. When his heated gaze finally traveled back up, he saw violence and impatience in Dean’s eyes, and started to tug off the tee shirt sticking to his body.

Dean wished he had his knife ... he would have cut the blasted annoying material off. Once Spike pulled it over his head, Dean snatched it and like the coat, tossed it out. He heard a banging on the door while he shoved Spike back into the tile wall a loud thump.

 

"Dean? You okay?" Came Sam's voice laced with concern.

 

"Yes!" Dean shouted while shoving and peeling Spikes leather pants down.

 

Spike bit down on the curse at the tip of his tongue. One look at the way Dean’s chest was heaving, and the single-minded way he was stripping him, he knew that not even the presence of his brother was going to stop him from getting what he needed. He tried to bend and help with the pants, which were more difficult to get off, but once again, he was pushed away and Dean worked them off and threw them out.

When he came back up, Spike ignored the warning flashing in his greens and stepped forward, putting one hand over Dean’s sun encircled star tattoo, and another firmly around his waist, and bringing their mouths together for another furious kiss.

Dean grabbed at Spike's hand, pulling it away from his tattoo and pinning it against the tile as he used his body to trap the vampire against the tile. He ground his hips against Spike’s, rubbing their cocks together. There was no way that this time Spike was gonna take charge. Dean was too revved up. Too needy for that to happen. The aggression and aggravation that built that night he went looking for Spike was still heavy on Dean. There were also thoughts, ones he cared not to admit, but jealous thoughts that Spike had been off with someone else.

Spike tried to push him back, but saw that Dean meant business. That he needed this. Easing up, he leaned his head back and allowed Dean to fuck him ... to tell him where his hand could and could not go, to show him how this game would be played.

Their initial struggle for control had made some noise, and Sam was banging on the door again. But each slide of Dean’s body against his detonated Spike’s senses, and he couldn’t give a damn what Dean’s brother thought. 

Dean paused long enough to yell, "Go away!" That silenced the banging and he went back to working his mouth over Spike's neck, knowing how he liked it. The flats of his teeth scored a bit, leaving red marks.

He moved lower, biting, sucking, caressing, gripping. He was on his knees and didn't hesitate to capture Spike's cock between his full lips and suck its crown, letting his tongue lash over him. His hand curled around Spike’s length, now stroking in time with his mouth. He was gonna give Spike something to remember as well. Gonna make him miss his mouth then his cock inside him.

“Sodding hell!” Blinding heat had Spike jerking and knocking the plumbing with his hand. The strong spray of water turned scorching hot. He cursed again, fiddled with it until he shut the bloody water off. And all the while, Dean never stopped his relentless sucking. 

Spike’s cock pulsed and ached until he couldn’t help but grip Dean’s head to assure he wouldn’t move away, as he started to fuck his mouth. “Take me... all of me,” he demanded, riding his mouth... fuck... fuck he needed to come.

 

Dean allowed it for a moment, long moments before both hands pushed Spke’s hips back once again and he was deep throating the vampire on his own, swallowing hard at the back of his throat till he pulled off fully. Dean surged back up, knowing he hadn’t allowed the vampire to come and it was aggravating him to no end. 

He turned Spike around, legs parting Spike's while a hand was at the back of his neck to hold him in place. He leaned in, "You are gonna be mine," came the growl as he grasped his own cock to push it between wet butt cheeks to find Spike’s opening. There was gonna be pain on both sides but soon it would be sweet.

He hadn’t been buggered in at least... right, he’d never been buggered. With Dean’s slick, hard body sliding against him... with his thick arousal pressing at his entrance, the vampire’s mind grew cloudy under a storm of emotions. Need. Desire. Desperation. And bloody, fucking, sodding hell... _love_. 

He put an arm against the tile, to cushion his face, and used his free hand to reach behind him. His fingers dug into Dean’s ass, encouraging him. “Come on... do it, then. Or will you be needing a manual?”

Dean responded by squeezing Spike's neck, not out of anger but out of over-heated arousal. His cock was pushing, straining, burning before his crown breached Spike. He kept pushing till his hips were flat against round ass cheeks and he was pressing Spike against the tile.

Dean shuddered from the sheer heat, tightness and relief of finally being inside. He sighed against the vampire's ear, "Gowd, so fucking tight and good." Dean started to move, a hand placing a bruising grip upon Spike's hip as he worked at thrusting in and out of Spike, driving inside with the need and desire he had been carrying around for too long. "Mine now," Dean huffed out.

“Who is arguing?” Spike asked, as his forehead banged into his forearm again. Sonova... he needed more room, he... his teeth rattled as Dean slammed inside him again, and again. “Right there... right there,” he strained to turn his head and emphasize his point, knowing Dean didn’t have the experience. “Fuck me... and don’t stop. Need it,” he said, letting Dean see inside his very soul.

Dean was lost in the pleasures he was experiencing. Lost in how Spike was reacting. When asked for ‘right there’, he gave it to him. When told not to stop, he groaned his reply, "Don't intend to. Need to fuck." Dean bucked his hips harder, faster, the sounds from them both filling the room. He rubbed his face into the back of Spike's hair, and reached around to grasp and pump Spike’s cock. He could tell Spike was close.

 

Just as Spike had done to him many times, Dean lowered his head to Spike's mouth, attempting to kiss him between grunts and breaths. "C'mon, let me feel you squeeze me."

 

Flooded by scorching heat, Spike twisted around as best he could, one arm raised and behind Dean’s head, supporting it as he hungrily kissed him back. The sensation of fucking and getting fucked was too much... too intense for him to try to regain control of the game. Letting go completely, he squeezed his muscles around Dean’s cock and bucked back and forth... fucking his hand, fucking his cock... fucking his mouth... throbbing... aching....burning up. “Fuck... Dean... De—“ 

The hunter had put his hand over Spike’s mouth, still kissing him each time his hand slid away, but it did its job... muffling Spike’s shouts as he came and came.

Dean's cock felt like it was in a vice, squeezed hard as Spike released. But it wasn't so tight that Dean couldn't keep driving into him till he felt his own release spark, burn and explode in a fire that had him spilling into Spike's ass. He used Spike's mouth to drown out his own grunts and groans, his cries as he came. 

When the white heat finally subsided, Dean turned the rough kisses into something softer. His sticky wet hand slid up Spike's chest to caress and hold them close. "There ... that is what I needed." Dean kissed him again before attempting to extract himself from the vampire.

Spike spun around but pulled him back, moving his mouth over Dean’s and teasing another long kiss out of him, before pressing his mouth against the pulse banging against the side of his throat. Temptation. He fought it and pulled back, running his knuckles down the side of Dean’s face. “I know. It’s why I came, yeah?” 

One of them turned the water back on, but neither one moved.

Dean leaned into the caress, vulnerable and unable to hide the need to be loved and cared for. He’d lacked it nearly all his life but given so much of it to those he cared about. As the water spilled over them, Dean ran his hands over Spike, caressing, basking, but knew Sam was out there, waiting, wondering.

After a few moments and a few last kisses, Dean shut the water off and pushed back the shower curtain. Clothing was everywhere, water seeped under the door. Dean grabbed a towel and tossed it to Spike, "Here." He grabbed his own and dried somewhat but then tied it about his waist.

Spike held the towel, but didn’t quite use it. “He’s wearing a hole in the carpet,” he whispered. “You’d best calm him. Do you want my number, or something?” Just like that, he saw Dean’s expression change. Close up... slam shut.

He gave a forced shrug and picked up his sopping wet tee shirt, wringing it out on the floor. “Would be one way for me know you’re going to the club. Save them some damage,” he offered as an explanation.

Dean was about to answer when he heard Sam yelling, "Dean?! You okay in there? Answer me?" That hint of panic and worry in Sam’s voice cut through Dean like no one else or nothing else could. Dean just looked at Spike before throwing open the door and coming out.

"Don't get your panties in a wad," Dean answered calmly though his skin was still flushed.

"What the hell?!" He went to push past his older brother when Dean stepped in front of him.

"What are you worried about? I didn't break any of the fixtures," Dean looked a bit annoyed at Sam as he usually did.

Sam pushed past his brother and looked in, seeing water on the floor, the shower curtain pulled back and towels all over. He looked back at his brother. "Just what were you doing in there? Fighting with your ..." Sam paused then held up his hand, "Maybe I don't want to know."

"Order dinner yet?" Dean asked, glancing into the empty bathroom before looking for a change of clothes.


	3. Chapter 3

A few months passed. Dean had come to the club a few times to get fucked. They’d made some new dents in walls, pillars and in the side of a car... _not_ the impala. He’d unwound enough to get into the habit of phoning Spike to let him know he was in the area and to be at the club so they wouldn’t miss each other. 

Sometimes they even talked some after the fucking was out of the way. Spike enjoyed those moments almost as much as he enjoyed the games they played and the explosive sex. But Dean… anytime he realized they might be connecting on a deeper level, he’d shut down and leave. Sure, he would joke, and wink, but the vampire saw through all that. Still, he didn’t ask for any more than Dean could or would give. 

Dean had phoned early in the day today, but never showed up. Spike relentlessly scoured the area until he found out Dean had been hospitalized. Now he lurked in the hallways, reining in the need to drag Sam out of the room so he could get his bloody turn with Dean. If those two were any closer, they’d be lovers... he balled his fists and sent a dark look toward the room.

Just then, a tired looking Sam finally walked out. Spike wanted to duck into the room, but he followed the tall hunter to see if he was going to get a bit of information from the doctors, and to find out if he could gage how much time he might have with Dean. 

The hunter got a cup of coffee from the vending machine. Spike cursed under his breath when he thought Sam was going to go back to see Dean. Instead, he walked into the waiting room and sat down at one of the two computer terminals available for use by visitors.

Wishing the hunter luck in burying himself in HOURS of research, the vampire headed straight for Dean’s room.

Dean laid on the bed, his cuts and bruises standing out against his pale skin. A bed sheet covered him and heart monitors beeped at his side. He was staring up at the ceiling, seeming to have some trouble breathing. He had to remind Sam, no more Hell Spawns. Those bastards were hard to kill and Dean nearly paid with his life.

When the door opened, Dean didn't turn his head, thinking it was Sam once again. Probably he was coming back to yell at him some more for taking such a risk. Sam might be pissed but he would get over it and really, he loved his brother.

The seriousness of Dean’s injuries hit Spike full force. He could have died. Worse..... even if Dean never fought another demon, in just over half a year, the hunter would die anyway. Caught in a maelstrom of emotions, when Spike reached Dean, he took his hand and was unaware of how hard he was squeezing until he felt the hunter’s silver ring give way. He swallowed and loosed his grip. “Club’s a mess. I don’t like not finding you anymore than you don’t like finding me.”

Dean jerked his head around and turned his red rimmed eyes to find himself staring into a set of piercing blues. What he saw there both warmed and scared Dean. He had been hoping all this time, or more like ignoring what he had been reading in those eyes... in Spike's touch and between some of the words he spoke. But now, it was becoming all too clear.

"Really," Dean played off, still half hoping he was wrong. "Well, had business." Dean pulled his hand away and rubbed his chest, over his tattoo and where one of those annoying heart monitor stickers was making him itch.

“Really? Looks to me more like business _had_ you, luv.” He leaned over Dean, inspecting every visible inch and fighting the urge to grab a doctor by the scruff of his neck and demand he _fix_ Dean _now_. “You alright?” Almost possessively, he put his hand over Dean’s tattoo, partially covering the hunter’s hand in the process.

Dean frowned as he looked at Spike. _Luv_ , he called him. As much as Dean liked it, he disliked it. "What?" Dean pushed Spike's hand away, "You suck on some girl? I'm a hunter, it's expected to get banged up now and again."

“Rather it be me doing the banging.” Spike gave him a thoughtful look. “Make a prickly patient, don’t you?” Turning, he pulled up a chair and sat down. “Play your cards right, and I might take your mind off this place.” Spike ran his hand down Dean’s covered thigh, very close to the visible outline of his cock. “Figure I owe you one. After you went and got that pretty tat... just for me, yeah?”

It took everything in Dean to keep from getting hard. To keep from wanting to just give in. But how could he? It wasn't fair to either of them. Dean was gonna be dead in a little over six months. He didn't want Spike to go through the pain Dean had with his mom, his dad and his brother, even though Sam was now back from the dead and walking.

He gave Spike a look, "You’re always so full of yourself. Like you’re the most import thing in a person's life when you enter it." He rolled his eyes. "I didn't get this for you. Sam has one just like it. It's to keep demons out. Jeeze," Dean grumbled, starting to push Spike away because he knew just what he was gonna have to do. The last thing he needed right now was a relationship, even if he craved it.

“Been told that before.” Spike laughed, his gaze dropping to the tattoo. “Still. I know what’s mine, and you did that for me. Go on and be prickly if you want to. Just means you’ll have to wait longer for...” his voice dropped an octave as he bent over and lightly mouthed Dean’s cock over the thin sheet.

When he raised his head, he wore a smug smile. Dean’s body had responded as quickly as ever to him. “Now about these injuries... and about something else, I want you to think about something.” It was just a proposal... the hunter would probably tell him to jump out the window, but Spike thought as the man’s time grew shorter, he might see things differently. Maybe.

“Let me turn you.” He put his hand lightly on Dean’s chest when the hunter would have sat up. “Hear me out, yeah? Won’t hurt... not any more than...” he swept his hand over Dean’s injuries. “And its not so bad being a vampire. I know a way to keep your soul. And you’ll keep your life... even if it’s technically an unlife.” 

Dean's eyes went wide. He wanted to turn him? To save his life? 

If Spike hadn’t been holding him down, Dean would have sat up. Honestly, the proposal sounded decent enough and good for a very very very last resort. However, Dean wasn't gonna risk anything. Not with his life, not with Sam's more importantly.

He could see rejection was hot on Dean’s lips, so he put a finger across them. “Shshsh, don’t have to answer me now. Think about it, is all I’m asking. Now about your _other problem_ ,” he looked at Dean’s still swollen cock. “Want me to touch you over or under the sheets?” He licked his lips, and was more than a little pleased by the sound of Dean’s heart kicking up a notch. 

"Fucking arrogant bastard," Dean slapped Spike's hand away, steeling himself. "I got this tattoo for Sam. Not you. For my brother. Get that through your thick bleached head. And what? You want to turn me into what you are? So I can go around being what I fucking hunt? Lose the last bit of humanity I still have even if it's for six months? And God fucking no, I'm not gonna risk my brother's life for you or for anyone.”

Spike shook his head, “don’t get worked up, right? Was a bad time to bring it up, I just...” he cocked his head to the side. “I don’t want to lose you any more than your brother does.” Something in the hunter’s eyes sent icy fingers into Spike’s gut. He’d said too much. Standing up, Spike put his hands up. “Dean...”

"No, get out. Leave. Now. Before I call for Sam and have him kill you.”

“What? Why?” The fact that his brother’s chances of success were slim to nothing was secondary. “Is it because I give a fuck about you?” That had to be it. He’d felt Dean withdraw anytime he’d shown a hint of emotion. “Not asking for anything from you.” It wasn’t as if he weren’t used to being love’s bitch. He didn’t need for Dean to feel anything beyond his obsession. “Just your fuck mate, right.” But Dean wasn’t listening...

“I don't want to be one of you.”

“Right... no turning then.” Spike dropped his hands to his sides and prepared to sit.

But Dean wasn’t done.

“Get it through your head, vampire. I’ll _never_ ask to be a vampire, it’s beneath me. _You’re beneath me_.” But it hadn’t been beneath him to trade his soul.

 _Beneath me._ The words rang again and again in Spike’s head. Old words. Words that had cut him... cut his soul to shreds when spoken by his first love. They haunted him still.

Spike focused his bleared vision onto Dean’s face. His eyes stung... another first, brought to him by this hunter. He wished he’d never met him... then maybe he wouldn’t be standing here with a big gaping hole where his heart should be... pain, where there could be none. 

“That how it is, then.” He gave a curt nod. “Happy hunting. Next time I see you I’ll expect to see you pointing a stake at me and not your dick.”

Silence.

Turning on his heels, Spike strode out. As he passed Sam, his mind registered the fact that the hunter was scratching at his chest, and the movement pulled the neckline of his tee shirt down and revealed the edges of a tattoo matching Dean’s.

* * *

A few weeks passed. Dean had gotten a clean bill of health after his stay in the hospital. Another hunt was completed but at least it was easy, not like the last case. Again, the brothers found themselves near the nameless club and Dean felt the urge to go. Long before that, in fact the moment Spike had left his hospital room, he had wanted to go after him, but hadn’t.

Spike had become more than an addiction to Dean. It wasn't just the sex anymore, which was why he’d pushed Spike away. Dean was starting to care. He couldn't and shouldn't care. He kept telling himself that all the while they were apart.

Now Dean found himself at the club door staring at it and wondering if he should just turn around and walk away. After what he had said to Spike. The hurt expression on the Vampire's face. It had haunted Dean. Made him feel when he didn't want to. Finally his hand touched the cold metal and he pushed the door open.

He walked into the dark and flashing lights, instantly looking up but no one he wanted was up there. When he headed to the bar, to his surprise, there was Spike. Dean's steps slowed. His heart instantly started to race.

Spike knew that scent. He knew the rhythm of that heart’s beats. He recognized the sound of Dean’s gait, and still listened for it out of habit. But he couldn’t rightly say he’d expected to hear it any time soon. 

“Naked scotch. Make it a double.” Spike didn’t turn, but searched his pockets for a smoke and brought it to his lips, then lit up.

Dean walked over and leaned on the bar, his back to it and right beside Spike, like he was on display. "Whiskey," Dean ordered, "So," He finally looked at the contour of Spike's face, "Missed me?" 

Piercing blue eyes shifted to Dean. So fucking hot. “Where’s your stake, Hunter?” He sucked on his cigarette and blew the smoke right into Dean’s face ... watching it clear away. Still fucking hot.

Dean let out a cough. "C'mon, you still pissy pouty?" Dean stepped closer. He was now in Spike's personal space.

Sodding hell. Spike put his hand out, pressing his palm into Dean’s chest to make him back off. Problem with that was the feel of his heart beating under his palm was sending all sorts of messages.... most of them straight to his groin. “What do you want?”

Oh he knew what Dean wanted. Knew how obsession could ride a man... make him give everything up for just one more fuck. It was good enough for Spike before. _Before words that could never be taken back were spoken._

Dean tried not to move but Spike was stronger so the Hunter rocked on his heels. His hand reached out and curled around Spike's wrist. He pulled it up to his lips and kissed his palm, "Now what do you think?" He asked.

For one of Dean’s heartbeats, all Spike could think about was throwing him onto the bar and fucking him in full view of everyone. He steeled himself, reminded himself that Dean wasn’t here to just fuck the enemy, he was here to fuck something that disgusted him. He wasn’t going to be that thing.

Shoving Dean’s face away, he pulled back his hand. “Think it’s a pity you came all the way down here to slum it up for nothing, that’s what I think.” Picking his glass up, he drank it, every last burning drop of it.

Dean rocked back and looked at him. He grabbed his drink, looked at it then tossed it at Spike and set the glass down. He then leaned in, "It was a pity, that I wasted the gas or even the energy. Especially over you. And I so would have liked to see your face again as I fucked you. Again. How often has that happened." He pulled away and headed for the exit.

“Hunter!” Spike called out in his trademark drawl.

When Dean paused and looked slightly over his shoulder, Spike pointed to several people near the bar, each of them human. “Might try one of them. They’re in your league. Not beneath you,” he forced the words out and wiped the dripping liquor off his face. “I’d best find someone to lick this off...”

 

White hot fury was the last thing he saw flashing in the hunter’s greens as the man left. 

 

* 

The club was miles away and Dean sat in his car, radio on, beer in hand outside the motel room he was sharing with Sam. The air was cold but Dean's body was heated. Seeing Spike had been a mistake. A mistake from the very beginning. And now, Dean was addicted. More than addicted, and seeing Spike reject him like that hurt.

He closed his eyes and damn if he couldn't still smell the smoke, the musky scent of sexed up Spike and just ... Dean shivered as he longed to feel those lips on him again. To feel that body against him and taste that cock in his mouth.

Dean hadn’t realized he had been undoing his jeans as he thought on these things and was now fondling his cock. His fingers curled around his cock, imagining it was Spike's hand, and started stroking. He moaned as he tipped his head back. Longing to feel the vampire’s lips around his cock.

His thumb rubbed over his crown, smearing drops as he pictured Spike’s lips around him, and it caused Dean to tremble. "Damn you, Spike," He breathed as he stroked faster.

A branch broke in Spike’s hand. God help him, he hadn’t been able to make good on his threat to get satisfaction elsewhere. He’d followed the git, sure he’d find him fucking someone... probably a girl, that or getting drunk. But there he was, alone... in his car... calling Spike’s name as he touched himself.

Spike couldn’t see Dean’s cock and didn’t know if he was just reaching inside his pants, or had pulled completely out. Still, images of all possibilities tortured his brain... worse, tortured his cock. He’d been hard from the instant Dean’s moist mouth had slammed into his palm.

Shifting, he drew a bit closer, uncomfortably aware of how he was straining against his pants... how much he wanted Dean’s mouth or hands or just Dean to sheath him. Fuck. Dropping his smoke, he crushed the butt with the heel of his boot. His gaze remained laser focused on Dean’s face.

Dean gasped for breath, his windows, except for the open one, were fogging. He wanted Spike but was probably never going to have him again. He closed his eyes tight, biting his bottom lip as he pumped his hand over his cock. The sounds breaking from him were starting to fill the car and Dean gritted his teeth.

He labored for breath just briefly before he felt himself releasing and sagged against his seat. "God, I hate you. Hate you 'cause I love you. Love you." He sighed softly.

Unable to restrain himself, Spike had his hand in his pants and was squeezing himself... ready to come until he heard those words. Hard, aching, pulsing... he pulled his hand out and punched the tree trunk with a closed fist. Bastard. Bastard ‘loved what he hated’. Wasn’t the same thing, was it? You couldn’t love that which disgusted you. Damn that boy. Damn that hunter for tying him up in knots... for confusing him. 

Back against the trunk, he sank down, rocking back on his heels... hating... hating, but unable to leave until Dean went inside and was no longer within sight.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam had been gone for over two weeks, and all that time, Dean had been freaking. His brother had been taken by vampires to a place called Dark Haven. 

Two burned down vampire nests and heaps of ashes later, Dean got one of them to talk and tell him Dark Haven was another dimension. Like the information did him any good - Dean found he couldn’t get in. He’d had tried so many times, only to end up battered, beaten and bleeding. He was running out of options.

He called Bobby Singer for help. Bobby told him this place, Dark Haven, was like a sanctuary for vampires. They went there with their human captives, to play with them, keep them as slaves, or worse. There was only one way to get in - as a guest or slave of a vampire. 

Dean only knew of one that he could turn to. One that he couldn't stop thinking about. One he was falling for.

The vampire wasn't at the club, but after knocking some heads together, Dean finally found out which seedy little bar he could find him at. Wearing his cuts and bruises like medals, and with dark circles under his eyes, the hunter wasn’t at his best when he arrived at the bar.

After his eyes adjusted to the dark, he hesitated a moment and then went to sit down at a small table next to Spike. Not sure what to say, he blurted it out. "I need your help."

"Push off, mate. You and I've got nothing to talk about." Spike steadfastly stared into his glass, never mind that he was being torn apart by the scent of Dean's blood. But the hunter was walking and talking, so he couldn't be too badly off, could he? 

As the silence drew out, Spike fought his body’s needs. He still hungered for the git... hungered for his taste, his voice... the hammering of his heart. Stupid that. Best he reinforce the ice walls he'd erected, block by block. It had been easy really. Each time he wondered what or who Dean was doing, he closed his eyes and remembered the harsh words he'd spat at him. Out of a universe of possible insults, he’d chosen the only one that could drive Spike away.

Dean had expected that. He expected a lot of things. Many scenarios played out in his head. Punching. Hissing. Throwing of objects or some goon friends of Spike’s coming out of the dark to drag him out. But nothing was going to stop him. This was about his brother and Dean was determined to get Sam back. 

In a different situation, Dean would have allowed himself to be affected by Spike. By his scent. By his looks. By that clipped accent of his. Just by his nearness. Dean still craved the vampire. He still wanted to feel him against his body. Feel Spike touching him, fucking him, kissing him. _God he wanted._

He shifted, his face still serious. "My brother, Sam, is missing." 

_Brother._ The brother he'd do anything for... even go so far as to come and consort with the devil himself for something other than to satisfy a physical need he couldn’t control. Spike's temper shot up. 

Twisting around on his chair, he cupped Dean's cheek, pushing the pad of his thumb roughly over a cut on the hunter's cheek and staring at the smear briefly. "Congratulations. Means you don't have to sneak 'round anymore to get some cock. You're free." 

If Spike thought his temper shot up, Dean's exploded. Spike didn't know what Dean would do for family. For his brother. He shot an arm up, knocking Spike's hand away while the other took the table's edge and lifted, knocking it from between them. The hard thud and the clatter of shattering glasses made those around them stop to look. 

He was up and out of his seat like a shot, his fist connecting with Spike's jaw, "YOU FUCKING BLOODSUCKER.”

Spike had been on edge for a long time. On edge with Dean... about Dean. Spoiling for a fight, he didn't think twice about hitting back and didn't pull any punches. Neither did the hunter, and since he was used to fighting demons, it wasn't a cake walk for either man driven to the edge. More punches flew, taking them around the bar room as they fought.

Furniture crashed and splintered under the weight of bodies that were thrown. Glass smashed to smithereens. Fists pounded mercilessly into each other. When Dean rushed him again, Spike was ready. A kick delivered to the center of his chest sent the hunter flying out the door. As Spike followed, he heard the bar tender shout about paying for damages. 

Outside... there he was.... "Bloody son of a..." Spike threw himself bodily over Dean, who'd been getting up. They rolled. He caught a glint of danger in the Hunter's eyes, but ignored it. Between curses, each struggled for control. 

Spike was pushed up against the pole of a street lamp. He used it for leverage to push back, and finally had Dean under him. With his fingers pointing up at the sky, he jammed his the flat of his palm up under the hunter's chin, choking him. He slipped into his vampire game face and snarled, knowing this would push the hunter to leave him alone... to get out of his life again, and maybe out of his head sometime. "You done playing with vampires," he demanded, applying pressure to his throat, and shifting back to his human face. "You ready to go mix with your own?"

Dean ignored the pain. It was just more to add to what he was already sporting. Glaring up at Spike with his hands around the strong Vampire's wrists, Dean struggled and then threw words up to Spike, "Damnit, I never played with you." It was an admission of sorts. Each time he’d gone back for more, he’d known there was something more… something he didn’t want to admit, even to himself. 

 

He hissed in a breath as more pressure was added, "Vampires ... took Sam. He's all I have left. Can't ... let him die. Do anything for him." Dean had already given up his soul, so he offered something else to Spike. "You ... can have me ... turn me ... I'll be yours, just help me get Sam!"

 _I’ll be yours._ The words rang in Spike’s ears, sending a thrill clear through his system. It was short lived. His face was as hard as his voice was bitter. “You’d say anything, _do_ anything, wouldn’t you?” _Even allow yourself to be turned into something beneath you._ Those thoughts remained unsaid. Abruptly, Spike released Dean and got up. 

 

Dean struggled to get his air, "Yes, for my brother, yes I will. I'd give you my soul but that’s taken. This is all I can give." _Besides my love,_ Dean thought to himself. From the ground, he looked up at Spike, as if the man was his last hope. "Sam is all I have."

“It’s how you want it to be.” Spike shot him a look. He didn’t know the younger Winchester at all, but the older one pushed everyone away and worked at keeping himself isolated. You couldn’t miss it if you were blind. Not that he gave a fuck… not anymore.

Right. So why wasn’t he walking away? Why was he puzzling through this? Thinking most vampires would have killed or turned Sam, not kept him. If a vampire was really keeping him, had to be an older vamp, the sort that could control his instincts and lay long term plans or play diabolical games to fill the boring days, weeks, months, years and centuries. 

“Whose got him, then?” There was a brief pause, “Get up. And wipe that blood off your face.” Spike dragged his gaze away from the gleaming scarlet rivulet at Dean’s mouth. 

Dean pushed up off the ground. Spike didn't understand. Spike didn't truly know what the Winchesters had been through. What Sam was to possibly become. And as much as Dean would love to keep that from everyone, he knew he would have to tell Spike the whole story. No lies. No half-truths. 

Standing, he dragged his jacket sleeve over his lips, blood stained the material. "I don't know who took him, just a bunch of vampires. They haven't killed him." Or so he hoped. At this point Dean wasn't sure but somehow he just knew.

"It’s a place called Dark Haven and I can only get in with a vampire." He drew a breath. "I have to get him out. If he stays there to long ..." Dean closed his eyes for a moment. "Since Sam was a baby, a demon was after him. Azazel, that was it's name. It had been trying to groom him to be the leader of his demon army. It took our mom when he was only six months. Our father hunted it and that was what Azazel wanted, cause it knew our father would train us to fight and to hunt. The demon took Sam’s girlfriend when he was in college just so Sam would be back on the road with me, honing his fighting skills. Then when we thought we had it, it tried to kill me. My father gave up his soul so I could live. We found a weapon to kill it." Which Dean now had tucked away at his back. It could kill Spike, but that was not what he wanted. 

The vampire silently watched him, not saying anything while more words than he’d ever heard from Dean spilled out of the hunter’s mouth.

"I killed Azazel, but it had killed Sam, so I traded my soul to another demon for Sam to come back.” He took a breath, forcing himself to tell the rest. “When I brought Sam back to life, the other demon asked me if I was sure what I brought back was a hundred percent Sam. There’s… that darker side of Sam that could come out, and I think those vampires who have him know that. I'm willing to do anything to keep that from happening. To get him back. Turn me. Kill me. Whatever you want. After we get Sam back. Please ... You’re my last hope." The last part came out choked and small. Dean hated to show his desperation, but this was for Sam. He wasn't gonna fail his family. He couldn't. 

 

That explained a lot about the hunter. His extreme loyalty to his brother, the reason... reasons they were so isolated... bloody hell, who wouldn't be if everyone around them, including themselves, kept dying? Course Spike had offered him a solution, one that the hunter would not contemplate... at least not until the brother was at risk and he thought it was the only thing he had to trade. The same brother he'd given his soul for. Now Spike knew why and how Dean was walking under a death sentence. But it wasn't the words that tore the vampire up on the inside, it was seeing Dean's red rimmed eyes and the tell tale shine of tears... it was the broken voice... the utter despair.

_Sometimes you had to laugh when you wanted to cry. This bloody well was one of those times._

"Your last hope. First time I've been called that. Usually get the 'last nightmare’ bit," he said, striding over and putting his arm under Dean's and around his back to support him as he walked to the Impala parked at such an angle that it would have received a ticket if the coppers'd been abount. He looked into Dean's face, "Your left hook could use some work. You get this look right before you strike. Dead giveaway that," he smirked, even though the coppery scent of blood mixed with the hunter's unique scent were giving the vampire ideas he didn't want or need.

Dean leaned against the car, sore and tired. He’d drank more than he’d eaten, and hardly slept the past few days, and he was feeling the effects. "I'll work on that," he muttered, looking over at Spike. The man was several inches shorter than him but with greater strength. If Sam hadn't been missing, Dean would have paid more attention to the butterflies in his stomach and the ache he felt inside him to be near this vampire.

"It's been a nightmare for me already, trust me. This isn’t the first time Sam's gone missing but now it's different. There are more demons out there. A great deal of them wanting to kill him. Others wanting him to lead this damn fuckin' army. I just want my brother back. You know. I mean… Haven't you ever lost someone? Would you do anything if you could to get them back?" 

Spike walked around to the passenger side and gave him a long look over the top of the car. Dark Haven was just that, a haven. Cause trouble inside, and all would be fine. Bring someone's captive or slave out, then you might be buying yourself a lifetime of trouble if you pissed on the bloke and got yourself on the 'kill on sight' list. Not that William the Bloody worried about these things, and not that he was arsed to tell Dean. "Been around over a hundred years. It's happened now and again." He opened the door, "we leave tomorrow night," he jutted his chin toward the horizon where the sun was about to rise. 

Dean glanced over his shoulder toward the sun then slipped into his car. The engine was the most comforting sound he heard all day and judging by how the sun was rising, it was best they go somewhere near. So he turned the Impala around, and headed to his motel. "Sorry, guess you’ll have to stay with me." Within a few moments of muttering those words, Dean was already pulling up to the back of a dingy motel. 

He climbed out and opened the door of the room, allowing Spike in. The place was a mess of empty pizza boxes, bottles, weapons and towels with dried blood. Dean pulled his jacket off and then the Colt was slipped out. At least he didn't have to use it on Spike which, honestly Dean was grateful for. He sat heavily down on the bed. 

The first thing Spike noticed was there was only one bed. His gaze flicked to Dean, but he didn't say anything. The second was that the place looked like a bloody sty. The third was that Dean looked more tired and broken then he'd ever seen him, and that included the time he was nearly killed and laying in that hospital bed. Right, he didn't like to think about that time. It only stirred up pain and anger.

Jaw tightening, the vampire silently moved around the room, picking up empty food packaging, and bottles. Plenty of them... whiskey, vodka, gin, cheap beer. By the time he was done, the small wastebasket in the room was overflowing, as was the one in the bathroom. He got rid of the red stained towels, and returned with a fresh wet one and a medical kit. 

Dean watched in a sleep deprived daze as Spike moved about muttering under his breath about the state of the room. When Dean had his mind set on one thing, he usually stopped paying attention to other things… and being neat wasn’t high on his list of important things, anyway.

 

 _Really shouldn't be doing this._ "Look up." Standing next to Dean, he started to wipe at the dried blood on his face and his knuckles. He was so close... so close to that mouth of Dean's... a mouth that could deliver heaven in one breath, a joke in the next, and cutting blows that stabbed through even the defenses of a hardened vampire. 

Shifting on the bed to make room for Spike to sit down, Dean made little faces as Spike tried to clean him up. At one point, Dean drew in a deep breath and Spike’s manly scent filled his lungs, making him wish this were a more pleasant time.

"Take off the shirt," Spike said, gruffly, looking downward toward where Dean's clothing. 

Dean looked down and was not able to recall how that blood got on his shirt. He pulled it up over his head, tossing it to the floor. "Thank you," he said, turning head to Spike, "In advance. In case I don't tell you later." 

"Just making sure you're in shape for tomorrow." Right, it's all he was doing. Making sure he would be ready for what was coming. He slathered some antibiotic ointment over a gash at Dean's side, and then quickly covered it with a bandage, fighting the need to run his mouth lightly over it. Over Dean’s rippling muscles.

Dean wanted to lean in and kiss him. To feel those strong arms around him. To have things back the way they were. He sighed heavily. "Have you been to this place?" 

Spike finished, and caught himself stroking his palms up and down Dean's lean abs. There was an awkward silence for a minute, and he pulled his hands away, standing up. 

Fuck. He wanted him. Wanted to kiss him. To touch him. To make him forget everything... his troubles, his brother... everything.

Filled with nervous energy, he started to pace the small room. "Used to go there all the time in my wilder days." His gaze flicked to Dean. "Didn't bring too many people back out with me," he admitted. "It's like an amusement park for vampires. Anything goes... no holds barred, no rules. All humans belong to someone." His cock stirred. Whether Dean knew it or not, he'd be going as Spike's human, live at his mercy, fuck... be fucked at his command. 

Dean looked down, "And my brother is in there." He looked back up to Spike. He wanted to go right now. Wanted to tear into there with the Colt blazing. Colt. That was something he would have to tell Spike about. Dean couldn't carry it. Couldn't carry weapons, if what he was thinking was right. "So if we go, I would have to 'belong' to you." Dean didn't need an answer. He grabbed the Colt and stared at it for a long moment. "You should carry this in then." 

It was a rather old looking gun and on the handle was a pentagram carved into it. There were also old Latin etchings along the barrel. Dean held it out to Spike. "It’s the gun I used to kill the Demon. It’s a gun made by Samuel Colt. It will kill you. Kill them. Kill anything supernatural. And if we need to escape, we are gonna need it. I have more bullets for it." He turned grabbing his bag and pulling a box out. "Made them myself." He sat it down and looked at Spike. "So. Tell me what to expect." 

A gun that could kill him. Spike only believed it because Dean said it, and he knew his business. If it were anyone else, he'd dare them to shoot him just to prove them wrong. "We'll take it," he agreed, pacing away and returning. 

"Expect me to treat you like you're... _beneath me._ " His eyes flashed for an instant, then he walked away, had to. "Whatever you're thinking, it will be ten times worse 'n that. And..." he turned and aimed a stare at him, "you can't go about trying to help people. Misery, pain, death... you sit there, and you watch, and you take it. Got that? Until we find Sam, you don't do anything to draw attention." Since they didn't know where little brother was, it wasn't as if they could go in with an actual plan. "Getting out with someone else's property, that'll be the trick of it. That's where it'll get interesting. Best be ready to fight for your life."

Dean gave Spike a half guilty look at those words. Beneath me. That was what he said and he hadn’t really meant them. "I got you. Just sit there. Easier said than done," Dean watched as the vampire paced. A breath or two passed, before he spoke again. “I've been fighting since I was four." 

"Four." A four year old had better things to be doing, but if evil had been after him all his... no wonder Dean was fucked up. And wasn't it just like him to be drawn to the fuck ups of the world? "Then you'll learn to sit now, yeah? That, or to die... and your brother with you." It was harsh, but getting through to someone like Dean wasn't easy... not about things he didn't want to hear or do. 

At least Dean wasn’t arguing, that was something. Right. There was still the issue of only one bed. Spike hesitated only for a minute, then began to strip. He didn't look at Dean, didn't ask, just pulled his tee shirt off, kicked off his boots and dragged his leather pants down. With his back to Dean, he carefully draped his clothes over the back of a chair. "Not sleeping on the floor, mate. Move over."

When that moment came, Dean couldn't for the life of him drag his eyes away from that all too lethal body. He wanted to whimper but only got up and walked around to the other side of the bed. Boots, jeans and a knife were removed before the knife was shoved under the pillow. A habit, nothing against Spike. And then the Colt was placed right by his side of the bed. 

With only his black boxer briefs, Dean carefully lowered his body down into the bed, rolling to his side away from Spike. Away from the temptation. And away so that his semi-erection could not be seen. Besides, sleep was not gonna come to Dean right away. "Just, no hogging the covers." Dean said, trying to throw in a bit of humor. 

"No shooting your bed mate," Spike answered, completely naked, on his back, with his elbows spread wide and head resting on his palms... or pressing them down into the pillow, just to keep from reaching out and dragging the hunter to him. Course he knew the hunter was interested, or at least his body was interested. The scent of his arousal, coupled with memories of how well he took to being fucked... all the sounds he made, the demands when Spike played with him, all of that had every muscle in Spike's body tensing... every nerve screaming for him to do something about it. "Night," he ground out, forcing his eyes shut and willing his body to behave.

Light flooded into the room through the gaps of the cheap shutter slats, piercing the dark. Time ticked by, Dean wasn't sure how long but he finally moved, turning to look at Spike. This vampire had turned his world upside down. "I didn't mean what I said back in the hospital. It's just me … my way of pushing you away because I didn't want to see you hurt. Didn’t want you hurting when it’s time for me to go… die. I couldn't put you through that. Even though I love you, I couldn't do it. I'm sorry. You were never beneath me. You were always higher than me." Dean stared a few more moments at the sleeping vampire, then turned over. "Forgive me." 

Hours later, still in the grips of the sleep of the undead, Spike instinctively reached for the warm body next to him. He knew that scent, knew every plane and indentation of muscle and flesh, recognized the protesting murmurs, and felt his need rise in response to a heart beat he knew and loved. He was plastered to the hunter's back, one of his legs pushed between Dean's. One arm slipped under Dean, cradled him, held his chest. His other arm dangled over Dean's side, with his palm cupping Dean's cock. They weren't in Dark Haven yet, but there was no doubt about it, the predator, the demon in him claimed the hunter already. _Mine._

 

Dean shifted, moaned a bit. There was coolness to his back. Hands groping at him and then he felt someone at the back of his neck. Dean suddenly felt claimed and this time, it didn't bother him. He was alone, vulnerable and he needed the attention. Wanted it. Craved it. Dean looked down at his chest, moving a hand to place over Spike's. He even felt his cock fill as a little sound came from the Vampire. 

Dean half turned, and looked over his shoulder at the vampire whose eyes were still shut. Turning all the way around to face Spike, but not saying a word, Dean reached out and ran his fingers through those white locks. How strange it was that there was no warmth, no heart beat, but yet he could feel another sort of heat emanating from the vampire. He leaned in, softly kissing him. 

Spike came fully awake... aware. He'd gone too long without this... without Dean. One fucking kiss, and there was ignition. Growling, he rolled on top, staring down at him for an instant. Heat and hunger was what he saw... need. He felt Dean start to pull him down. Unable to resist, Spike grasped Dean's wrists, slammed them down on either side of his head, and curling his fingers around the metal railing of the headboard, held them there much like cuffs. Lowering his head, he covered the hunter's mouth, pushing his tongue past his teeth, tasting him... filling him, fighting him and loving him all at once.

Dean bucked, but didn't fight. If anything he arched his neck and reached up as Spike lowered down to kiss him. His tongue curved around Spike's and took from him what he offered. His own fingers curled and grasped metal, holding himself there as he lifted his body a bit to push up against Spike to show him, to make him feel just what he wanted.

Spike wanted more... needed more... needed Dean bucking and screaming under him, and he would have it. Breaking the kiss, he moved down, trailing open-mouthed kisses down the hunter's throat. Staring at his broad, tanned chest until his flat male nipples tightened, and then lowering his mouth over one of them, he lathed and teased... devoured.

Dean hissed and arched. Desire burned him. Need burned him and he gasped as his nipples were teased. He couldn't prevent his body from squirming and rubbing. Wanting more contact. Needing more. He didn't say anything, just let his raw emotions show. He groaned with need and allowed himself to be claimed. If anything, he wanted it. 

God he was responsive. The hunter wasn't hiding his reactions and Spike couldn't have asked for anything more... not when he was getting exactly what he needed. He scraped his teeth one last time near Dean's nipple, then stealthily closed his mouth over a healing wound.... licking... the coppery taste of Dean's blood inflaming. Abruptly, before he was tempted to open up a new wound that the hunter did not need, he moved his mouth lower, clear down to Dean's belly, still imprisoning his wrists, though it was now a stretch. 

He nipped, and licked and sucked as he moved his mouth back and forth in slow circles, each one just a bit closer to the thick cock straining for his attention. Spike squeezed Dean's wrists, "keep them there," he ordered, letting go and smoothing his hands up and down Dean's sides, over his abs, his chest, moving in tandem with his mouth, and then curling his fingers around the waist band of his boxers and bringing them down, inch by inch. 

Dean didn't even fight the order. His fingers curled more tightly around the bars and he wanted to cry out. To swear at the vampire. He had him so steamed up, he thought he was gonna explode. His breath grew ragged. His chest rose and fell in rapid motion. He wanted him. Needed him. If this kept going he was gonna voice it. He was desperate and knew Spike could taste it. 

Raising his head, looking down the length of his body, he saw white hair. He saw movement and his hips rose off the bed anxious for Spike to just pull his underwear down. Off. To make them vanish from his body and litter the floor on the other side. Now Dean was his. He was wet, his cock cried with want. 

Having pulled Dean's boxers only half way down, so that they still trapped part of Dean's cock against his body, Spike smirked. Anxious and hot... that's just how he liked his boy, but he planned to get him much hotter. He kissed him over the thin material of the underwear, then dragged his tongue over it... over both the material and the part of his shaft that was free of the boxers. He licked him again, just as lightly, then put his mouth sideways over Dean's shaft, holding him... pressing his tongue against him in a throbbing motion. Inhaling the heady scent of his need, and inching closer to the point where it was getting bloody fucking hard to keep teasing.

There, that released a swear. And several others flew from Dean's lips under breaths. Dean's whole body trembled. A shudder that surely rocked Spike as well. He swallowed, lifted his head to gaze at Spike, his tongue running over his lips. Fuck.

He closed his eyes when he finally felt Spike's tongue over his flesh and now Dean was squirming to get his underwear fully off, trying to drag his body up to make them roll down, however, Spike's strong hands held Dean in place, pinning his hips. That alone caused a painful groan to come from Dean's parted lips. 

"Want it off, do you?" Spike laughed as Dean used his hip to hit him in the face. He'd take that as a 'yes' and... ignore it. He paid more attention to Dean's cock, making sure he felt the difference between those parts of him that were covered, and those that received the full-on pleasure of skin, to skin. It went on and on until the almost violent thrashing of Dean's body and his gutteral demands broke through Spike's lust induced haze.

Suddenly the blood was pounding at Spike's temples, and fire was inching through his veins. He couldn't wait... not one bleeding second longer. He knew Dean didn't like to waste clothing... he'd complained about it often enough. The sound of tearing cloth said how much the vampire cared about that. 

Now that Dean's cock was revealed in all it's glory, he sucked on it from base to crown... three times. It was all he could give the hunter before he crawled up his body and ground his hips down. Holy fuck, the way Dean instantly locked his legs around him and started to buck up against him sent unbelievably intense sensations through Spike.

 _Get a hold of yourself, mate._ And yet he couldn't. Positioning his cock over Dean's he started to fuck him. Hard. Fast. Furious. Fucking him into the mattress, fucking him into oblivion while he struggled to keep his eyes open, to watch his lover. 

Dean's heart raced and pounded in his ears as he strained to get more friction, more pressure. He stretched to try and kiss the man over him, to suck and lick his mouth. Sweat pooled across his body as he furiously thrust his hips up as far as he could. It was intense. So fast and furious, it almost hurt. Dean started to grunt, tried to breath. It was so intense, he was on fire. The energy built between them and exploded. Before Dean knew it, he was releasing with a strangled cry.

Spasms of pleasure ripped through Spike as he pumped faster until he shuddered and collapsed on top of Dean. He laid his head on the other man’s heart, listening to his heart pump and beat, and tracing the edges of the tattoo on his chest, pretending he didn’t know the truth, and pretending he’d never seen Sam’s matching tattoo. A few moments to dream, that’s all he was taking here. He’d round the corner of reality later, but right now it was him, and it was Dean, in a bed. His eyes widened. “Sodding hell, this is the first time… in bed.”

Dean finally let go of the metal over his head to lowered his hands down to rest on Spike's back and arm, gently stroking. Why was it with them the sex was so intense? Unlike any other time in his life. He looked down at Spike, fearing if he spoke the magic would be gone. He couldn't help smiling a bit, "New step in our relationship?" Christ, did he just say that?

There was a silence, but it was filled with more of Spike’s dreams. Then again, reality was always round the corner, wasn’t it. “You practicing for Dark Haven? Doing a good job, there.” _Too good._

Why did Dean feel crest fallen? Was that all this was to Spike? "No." came the single word, all too soft for a normal human to hear.

“Right. Good answer,” Spike dropped a kiss on the hunter’s lying mouth. It was alright, really was… he was used to this. He could even play along. “I needed this. Really. Needed. This.” 

Dean cupped his hand behind Spike's head, gripping his hair and holding him still for a moment before kissing him, softly, deeply then pulled back slowly. "Me too," was all he could answer. He bit back the rest. It was clear to Dean, things were never gonna be the same. Just something else he messed up.

“Sleep then. Wake me if you _need_ anything, smirking, he moved off Dean, but rested his head on his shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll be waking you…”

Spike made good on that promise. They woke each other up every few hours, just to go at it. Sometimes they talked. Sometimes it took three minutes, and they fell back asleep. Sometimes they showered. It was all a blur … a fuckfest that would be ingrained in the vampire’s memory forever.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean was comfortable or perhaps he was just worn out. He slept more soundly after each tumble. This time when he reached out for Spike, he found air. This made the Hunter's eyes shoot open and he turned looking at the empty space. Was it all a dream? Though his body wasn't telling him so. He sat up. No sounds in the bathroom. So where the hell did he go? "Fuckin' ..."

Spike pushed the door of the motel room open and could not have been more pleased at the sight of Dean with his swollen lips, wide eyes, and a thoroughly fucked look. “Had a good day, did you lu—Dean?”

Dean's greens shot to Spike and relief washed over him. He dropped back on the bed, trying to look casual as he leaned on one elbow while running a hand through his messed up hair, "Yeah, you?" He looked at the bags, "I hope there is coffee in one of those."

“Plenty of coffee, and food. I mean the real stuff, not pizza, yeah?” his gaze went pointedly to the overflowing trash can, before he walked over and set a strong cup of coffee down on the night stand, and a boxed up lasagna dinner. “What the bloody fuck is a manwich? They asked if I wanted one.” He paused. “Told them I’d already had one.”

Dean grabbed the coffee and started drinking. At least it covered up the smirk that wanted to play on his face at Spike's comment. "Ground beef with sauce on a bun. Don't get one." He grabbed the lasagna and started eating, when he noticed the other bag and motioned to it with his fork, mouth still full, "What's in there?"

“Presents. Don’t get too excited, used your money,” he admitted, tossing Dean’s wallet next to the coffee, then digging into the bag.

"Not my money," Dean corrected, knowing he had to have used one of the fake credit cards. He took another bite then nearly choked as he saw the pink shirt that appeared from the bag. "PINK? That is so not for me. No way. N'ah"

Spike gave him a look. “It’ll make you look less dangerous. Might make you _feel_ less dangerous and remind you not to do anything stupid, though I’m not counting on it.” Placing it on the bed, he imagined Dean in it, then turned again to look at him. “I want to see you in it. Might be a good time practice doing what you’re told.”

Dean quirked an eyebrow at the vampire. "You really want me to wear that." He looked at the shirt. "This is just to get even, isn't it." He grabbed it. Guy had taste in material though. He looked at Spike then with a breath, pulled it on. "I feel like a dork."

In two strides, Spike was leaning over him and kissing him. Hard. “Don’t look like one. Believe me.” Pulling away before they were drawn into another round of sex, he took out the second present. It was a leather collar, with ‘Spike’s’ written in Silver on the front. “Turn around.”

Dean felt his breath leave him. That damn kiss was just not long enough but it was a good thing Spike pulled away. Dean could already feel his body react. He looked down at the shirt, was studying it when he lifted his eyes up under his lashes to see the collar. He quirked an eyebrow again as he read the writing. "Spike's?" He looked at him.

“Did you expect me to pick up something that said ‘Bill’s?’” He twirled his index finger in the air, gesturing again, for the hunter to turn and allow him to put it around his neck. 

"Is this really ..." He saw the look on Spike's face and turned. He wasn't removing his talisman though. He hadn’t taken it off since that Christmas many years ago when their dad hadn’t come home and Sam had given him the present from Bobby meant for their dad. Dean had done his best to give Sam a good Christmas but, it was also a time where his little brother learned the truth and Dean had to start teaching him, explaining to him, filling him in and honestly, it hurt Dean deeply to do that. Sam's innocence was gone the moment Dean put that talisman on.

Spike quickly tied it on. “Don’t look so glum, pet. It makes you look… manly. I’d show you, but we’d best get going once you’re done.” 

As Dean finished eating, Spike secured the colt inside his trench coat and was very aware of Dean’s eyes following him around. “Anyone told you that you need to learn to share? It’s yours, yeah? But you can’t get it inside,” he reminded him, pocketing the bullets Dean had made.

"Just, don't let that fall in the wrong hands. It's the only weapon I have against those demons." He pulled his ripped jeans on and was ready. He started heading for the door. "Manly, in a pink shirt and collar. I'm a walking irony."

* * * 

The wrought iron gates to Dark Haven were located in the cavernous old aqueduct. Miles before reaching them, the tunnels were filled with vampires and those guarding the entrance. Spike couldn’t believe that Dean had been so foolish as to try…. not once, but several times… to slip inside. It was a wonder he’d survived at all.

They’d parked as close as they could in one of the wide tunnels, and then had no trouble getting in together. Vampires stepped aside, and allowed them entrance. Spike didn’t know whether to be annoyed or fill up with pride at the number of eyes that followed Dean. For all the hunter’s complaints about the pink shirt, if he wasn’t blind, he’d see how much worse it could have been. Most of the human companions were clad in very little actual clothes. When a male escort, on a leash, and wearing metal studded g-strings walked by, Spike gave Dean a look demanding a bit of gratitude. 

The area past the gates looked liked a continuation of the acuaducts. There were tunnels leading to or connecting various large chambers. The tunnels were lined with rooms, while the large chambers held group activities. Once, these activities had held more allure for Spike.

Dean walked slightly behind Spike who was dressed in his leathers. Both men hadn't bothered to shower after that last round because Spike had informed him it was best they smelled like sex. To Dean, they reeked of it. He was sticky from cum on his body. And the damn collar was itching a bit. However one thing Dean did know, as much as he hated it, he did look good in that pink shirt. If he needed proof, it was the way people were watching him… he just knew he was being sexually objectified.

As the pair moved through halls, some Vampires roamed or loitered, while others moved with purpose. There were many humans, chained, tagged, dressed for sex or bondage fun. Some looked unhappy, but as far as Dean could see, many looked pleased and willing, stroking or following their 'masters.' 

They entered one of the large chambers. It was littered with pillows, veils, tables, drinks and writhing bodies. Like the club where he’d met Spike, there was public kissing and fucking, though the ratio of women were far greater. 

At the far end of the room, a woman sitting and watching the sexual frenzy raised her head and looked at Spike. 

Spike’s eyes glittered. He stopped until Dean caught up, put his arm possessively around his waist and whispered in his ear. “She hates me, that one, but knows everyone. Let’s see if we can get anything out of her.”

As he dragged his human toward the dark haired vampire. Spike was keenly aware of how Dean was checking out her large breasts, barely covered by her mesh top. “Eyes up,” he gritted out.

Dean was only 'human' after all and how could he not notice that body. Lots of lovely curves, all the way down and back up again. She was a delicious bit. Sadly, a vampire. "Yeah, yeah, not that it will make a difference." How could one not look at those breasts. Those lips as well. Damn fine woman. Spike seemed to know the pretty people.

His fingers dug into Dean’s side for an instant, but then he loosened his grip and stopped in front of the woman. “Still finding it too entertain here to leave, I see, _Vicky._ Looking bloody fine, though.”

Veronika tipped her head and smiled at Spike, "And you know how I hate to be called that." She moved up closer to Spike, "Well, I must say I do find better playmates here, than the ones you have been around lately. Though," she leaned and looked at Dean.

“No one ever accused you of having good taste.” Releasing his boy, Spike looked him over. “He’s a bit rough about the edges, but he tries. And where is your harem?” The last time he’d seen her was years ago. Back then, she had a stable of men and women at her beck and call. “Haven’t gone and done a foolish thing like giving up sex, have you?” 

She gave a laugh and moved away, "No, they’re around," She waved her hand, "C'mon, come to my rooms and get comfortable. Then tell me what you want. I know you too well, William. You don't come here with a pet unless you’re bored or want something. And a lovely pet he is. What is his name?"

“Dean-o,” Spike casually said, following the brunet to the rooms she kept at the Haven. “Had fun breaking him in. Anyway, you’re right about one thing… I want something.” Several tall men stood right outside her rooms, and gave them the once over before they moved aside and allowed them to walk inside with her.

With its comfortable sofas, plush fur rugs and strategically placed mirrors to reflect the humans, the place was made for sex. Spike knew that even the dungeon room she kept below stairs had black velvet lining the walls and floors. That was not to say that she didn’t have some serious fun in there, but it wasn’t the sort Spike had ever been interested in. 

Spike sat down, very aware that Dean was now standing behind him. “I’m looking for a human. Hear he was brought to Dark Haven. This time if you’ve got answers for me, I’ve got the blunt to pay for them.” She never ventured to the outside world, but it was still money that made the world go round. Her purchases at the human slave market had to be financed somehow.

"You, looking for a human? Is he as good looking as this one?" Veronika tipped her head. 

Dean wanted to say it was his brother but he gritted his teeth and looked down at the ground, his hands tightly clasped behind his back.

"Why, William?" Veronika asked, motioning for drinks.

“Let’s just say he took something from me, and disappeared before he finished paying for it.” When her gaze rested on him, he knew she wouldn’t let it go at that. “I like to watch him. I like to force him to fuck Dean,” he closed his eyes as if he were imagining it. He could smell the anger roiling off Dean… could hear the human’s heart pounding. “Dean doesn’t like it as much,” he added, smirking as he opened his eyes and accepted the drink.

Veronika seemed to bathe in Dean's anger. She gave a little sound as she opened her eyes, her chest heaving as well. "You do have some delicious fun, William. So tell me about this human. There are lots here." She crossed her legs, showing them off.

Spike took the whiskey laced blood that was offered and knocked some of it back. “Tall. Six feet, five or six inches or so. Name’s Sam Winchester,” he met her gaze. “There are plenty who should know him, even if you don’t recognize the name. Demon hunter. Or he was.” Giving a malicious smile, Spike added, “Now he’s a plaything and fucks on command. Think you can flush him out?”

"Winchester, name sounds familiar," she took a drink of the blood in her glass. "But I would like to know, what you intend to offer me in trade?"

“Told you,” he patted his pocket. “How much are you asking? I’ll pay enough to buy you a new playmate, or two. Don’t be greedy, mind. There are other places I could go to,” he reminded her. It was true, and he planned to, but she had the largest network of associates since she never left the place. 

"Then maybe you should try pimping your money there. I have no need for it, William. I have enough playmates." She uncrossed her legs then leaned forward, "But I'll take him for a night,” she looked Dean over.

Things had changed. She didn’t need blunt anymore, bloody great. “Stop playing games, Veronika. What do you want? Someone’s head on a plate? A charm or an artifact from the outside? Name it and I’ll get it, but let’s not waste any time here.” 

She leaned back, noting how annoyed he got. She smiled, "Him," she motioned with her chin to Dean.

Spike grew dangerously quiet. “What do you want him for?” He didn’t turn, didn’t look at Dean once. “Thought you said you had better playmates on the inside.”

"I said I had plenty of playmates. Not better. Besides, I want to see what you find so fascinating in him to make you get that greedy little 'that is my toy' look on your face." She smirked as she got up and walked around Dean, running her hand over his body.

“Do I, now?” Spike still didn’t turn. He did, however hear his boy’s pulse kick up and it made him want to smash a few heads together. “How quickly can I expect an answer on Sam?”

"Give me a day or two?" she answered. She leaned in and took a deep breath of Dean who was looking down at her with his head slightly tilted. She ran her hand over Dean's chest then started taking his shirt off.

"Whoa, honey, you take off my shirt, you have to be the same way too." Dean smirked knowing that would irk Spike.

She gave a chuckle, then leaned down to Spike to whisper in his ear, "Oh I can see why you like him. You want your information. You want that other boy, then you will do this. And if you get pouty, you have to watch as well. You know I'm the best here at getting you what you need, William."

Options. There weren’t many good ones. Maybe if he’d come around here more often… maybe if he hadn’t lost contact with his old mates. The glass shattered in Spike’s hand, its red contents leaked through his fingers as he shook his hand out, then whipped it around to grip Veronika’s chin. “One hour, Vicky. One hour, and you keep him out of the dungeon. Don’t want him marked.” 

Her lips twisted into a lopsided scarlet smile. "One hour then. No dungeon. You'll find your other boy and I hope you let me watch as they do fuck." She pulled away and grabbed Dean's hand. "C'mon, pet."

Dean looked at Spike, giving him that look that asked if there was any other way. However the vampire wasn't looking at him and she was much too strong as she pulled Dean. Dean drew in a breath and as he done so many times before, knew what he had to do. For Sam. For other reasons. With one more look toward Spike, he turned back to the female vampire.

She stopped at the entrance to her bedroom, grabbed Dean's shirt and tore it off him, wiping her chin and tossing the shirt back to Spike. "And do clean up the mess."

“Not your bloody servant. You’ve got fifty eight minutes left.” Bloody, bugger, bumfuck… His eyes burned as Veronika pulled Dean inside her room and shut the door. Another full minute passed, and then Spike was on his feet, lighting up.

He tried not to listen. Tried not to recognize the sound of Dean’s belt buckle being undone. His zipper. He looked up and took a long drag on his smoke, and then started to pace. It was going to be the longest bloody hour of his life.

He wasn’t wrong. Dean’s breathing started to get erratic. Was he going down on the bitch? Was she going down on him. The sounds she was making now… He ran a hand over his forehead and eyes, trying not to imagine Dean’s hands on the vampire’s breasts… but they were there, he just knew it.

He paced some more. Fuck. Dean was swearing now. She could make him swear like that…. Groan like that. Was she holding him in place, like Dean liked? Did she know he liked to be forced to give up control? Did she realize if she gave it back to him right before he released, he would shout louder… shoot farther.

He tossed the cigarette butt to the ground and pulled out another, this time playing with it rather than lighting up. Come on….

It was like the sound of hoofs thundering down a road. Dean’s heart was banging out of control. Was he on top? Was he under her? Did he need her… need it as badly as he had last night? Spike ran an uncharacteristically shaky hand through his hair again and braced.

There it was, both of them releasing. She was fucking calling Dean’s name. If Dean… if he said her name…. Fuck… He was slowly going out of his mind here.

Then it was Dean’s hoarse cry. Pleasure laced with fear. Spike was through her door in time to see her sink her teeth into the side of Dean’s throat. In two strides, he was at the side of the bed, grasping her hair and yanking her off. “Bitch!”

She hit the wall, somewhere behind him. Spike’s gaze was laser focused on the bite, but he knew he couldn’t show any sympathy. Pulling at the silken sheets, he tossed it at Dean, same way she had tossed Dean’s shirt at him. “Wipe it. Then wait for me inside. Put your shirt back on, “ he snarled. 

Dean was breathing heavily, mostly out of fear … of being bitten and of Spike’s harsh expression. He was stuck in a den, outnumbered, and feeling a bit helpless. He didn’t like that feeling, or the fact his life depended on this Vampire who possibly hated him even if they had incredible sex the night before. He took the sheet, grabbed his pants to pull them on and was out the door, tempted to just leave to find Sam.

Veronika was up and at Spike. She grabbed him and whipped him around to slam him against the wall he had thrown her into. "You are pathetic," she breathed up close to him. "You actually care for your toy?"

She was naked, and in his face, and Spike didn’t give a fuck. He backhanded her, and followed when she fell back onto the bed. When she scrambled up, Spike moved in, game-faced, angry, vicious. Wrapping both hands around her delicate throat, he shook her. “You took something from me. You owe me,” he snarled, pushing her up against the headboard. “I want answers, Vicky. I want them tomorrow. Or it’s William the Bloody you’ll be seeing next time. Tomorrow.”

She licked the blood from the corner of her lips, just staring at him "You will have your answers, William. But just know this," She leaned in closer, pressing her luck with him, "You care too much for your toy. It will be your downfall."

“When I’m through with my toy, I will kill him myself. Until then, I don’t share very well.” If he didn’t need her, she’d be laying in a pool of her own blood. “You got what you wanted.” He wasn’t a fool, he understood now what she’d been after wasn’t Dean at all, but to get to him… to William the Bloody. “Now get me what I need.” Gently, he let her go, and shifted back.

Dean was dressed, and rubbing his sore neck. He glanced at the door. Sam was out there. Somewhere. He started for it when he heard the other door open and stopped, looking back. Not even the Spike’s angry expression was robbing him of his determination.

Spike strode inside. “Put this back on, and don’t take it off again. Not for anything, or I will deal with you myself.” Shoving the collar back into Dean’s hand, he walked out into the hall tunnels.

Dean looked at the collar, "I didn't take it off, she did. She wanted to see how many marks you were covering." He mumbled as he followed Spike out and fastened the collar.

Spike stopped, and turned, locking gazes with Dean. “Next time anyone… I mean _anyone_ tries to take it off, you tell them William killed the last vampire who did that.” He could smell Veronica on Dean, and was still struggling with the fact her teeth marks were on his throat. 

Dean locked eyes with him. Spike was angry. Very angry. Dean didn't know if he should be pleased or fearful. "Sure. Will tell them that." He followed Spike, "Where to now."

“Getting a room. You’re taking a shower, you stink of her. Then we’re going to a few bars, see what some people I know have to say. If they’re still there.” The dark tunnels were pulsing with life and unlife, and there were eyes everywhere. People assessing who belonged to whom, who would be invited to what event. Who was worth fighting over. Spike’s granite features warned everyone off Dean.

Dean felt his hands itch. He felt like he was wasting time. Sam needed to be found. But where was he? This asking questions. Talking to connections, it was one thing when Sam was with him, but another when he was looking for his brother. 

He waited as Spike had a word with someone and money was exchanged, and then the man pointed them to their room. Once he was inside, Dean pulled off the shirt and tossed it aside. It was ruined by blood stains that marked his chest as well. He pulled the collar off but gently set it aside along with his own talisman. Eyes on Spike, he paused at the door, wanting to say something but what? What should he say? He sighed and stepped wordlessly into the bathroom.

For a long time, Spike listened to the water running. He wanted to be in the shower with Dean. He wanted to wipe her off him. _Focus_. Get the brother out. Be finished with this. He said it to himself like a mantra, pacing as he waited for Dean to come out.

Dean scrubbed up, washing her touch and smells off him. He swore as the water hit his throat, his wound burned. Finally, he climbed out, dried off and walked out with a towel about his waist. Dean knew better than to pause to take a moment to gaze at Spike. He grabbed the collar and started to put it on. At least it would cover the bite. His talisman was next. Finally, Dean looked at Spike, "Wouldn't happen to have another shirt I can wear?" He asked as he grabbed his jeans so he could pull them on with his underwear.

Crossing the room, Spike picked up a folded black vest held together by silver buckles. “Put this on.” Still annoyed, his gaze clashed with Dean’s.

Dean pulled up the zipper of his jeans that were ripped at the knees. He’d had a lot to think about while in the shower. Mostly, he was a bit taken aback at how Spike was acting. Sure they had incredible sex the night before but things between them were still a bit chilled. So the vampire's attitude was, honestly a bit strange.

Wordlessly, he took the vest. As he was fastening the buckles, he studied Spike’s tense stance. The vampire was brooding. 

The silence stretched between them, the tension ratcheting up.

Suddenly, Dean stepped over to Spike, cupping his hand behind the vampire's head and pulling him close. He tipped his head, kissing him as used his body to back Spike up to the wall. Dean's mouth devoured, sucked and fucked at Spike's mouth. He was showing what he wanted, really wanted, needed and desired. Dean bared himself to the vampire, letting him feel what his body wanted… how hard his cock got when they kissed. "I only get this way for you." 

It wasn’t what he’d wanted. Wasn’t what he’d expected. But it was what he’d _needed_. Fire and ice. Gentle and rough. Fast and slow. Angry. Heated. Dean. Mouth to mouth, and up hard against him. “Not a bloody idiot,” Spike argued, yet kissing him back, groping, dragging the hunter as close as he could. 

"And neither am I. You’ve spoiled me for women," Dean rocked his hips against Spike, running his hands over him, groping at whatever bits of the vampire’s body he could while he dragged his mouth down Spike's neck.

“Right. I’m magical, that way.” Fuck, why couldn’t he just push Dean away, why couldn’t he make him shut that lying mouth? “Got ears mate," he bit his lower lip as Dean dragged his erection up his body, sending Spike up in flames. _Push_ … but he was pulling. _Say no_ … but his mouth was insisting on ‘yes’ as it skimmed over Dean’s jaw, his throat. 

"Gotta take one for the team," Dean answered as he sank his teeth against Spike's throat and bit, sucked then pulled to attempt to leave a mark. He brought his mouth back over to Spike's mouth.

This was all wrong, he was the one supposed to be in control. Spike turned them around, slamming Dean’s back into the wall. His throat burned where Dean had almost broken his skin. It was a good burn. “That what it was?” Stupid question, really. Any red blooded bloke who saw Veronika couldn’t help but be interested. He cupped Dean’s cock, rubbed it until he saw Dean’s eyes cloud. “Did she hold you down? Fuck you like I do?” Each question sent a shard of glass into the vampire’s gut.

"You were holding me down. You were the one who was fucking me. It might have been her but I was thinking of you. Damnit, I didn't like it. Her fucking me, but you sent me in there," Dean's hands were trying to push but not as forcefully as they might have been if he were really trying to get away, and his hips were surging. He soundlessly swore because his spine was melting from the contact.

 

Spike’s cock filled and surged. He held Dean still and kept jacking him until he couldn’t stand it and had to lean in, to thrust his cock against the hunter hard. “I know I did.” Fucking hell, he’d had to, and logically he knew Dean hadn’t done anything wrong… didn’t really belong to him. “I… couldn’t stand it. Didn’t want to see you… hear you with anyone.” And then the tide of words were stemmed as he crushed his mouth over Dean’s and they fucked, and fucked, riding each other as if they hadn’t had sex in months.

Dean held Spike tight to him, rocking his hips. The friction through their pants was burning. A pleasant burn. But he wanted contact and struggled to pull open Spike's pants and reached inside. "How can you break through my defenses. Only one." He pulled and jerked Spike’s cock. "Just you."

“Right.” He wanted to believe. But at the moment, he wanted even more to come… to make Dean come. To burn all remaining images of Veronika out of his mind and his boy’s mind. Returning the favor, he freed Dean’s cock and leaned his forehead against the hunter’s as he closed his eyes and moved his closed fist up and down. There was silence, broken only by the sounds of panting and the occasional groan as each of the men was lost to everything but need. 

Dean thumped his head back against the wall. He groaned wishing and not wishing that Spike would believe his words. He kept rocking then gasped, his breath hitching. His lips were near Spike's ear, "Spike," he breathed, shaking, "I lo..." He was cut off as he released, swearing how good it was. Perhaps it was a good thing. The way things were between them, it might have been the wrong time to say that and maybe he shouldn’t say it at all. 

As Dean’s fingers slipped off his shaft, Spike leaned in and fucked the hunter’s hip, pulling away slightly as he came hard, shooting his load against the wall. Turning his head slightly, he kissed Dean again. After a few moments, he broke the kiss. 

“We’d best wash up and go. Out there…” he nodded toward the door. “If I’m jealous, don’t mind me. You’re not in danger from me, yeah?” 

Dean defenses were shattered. His breath was still ragged as he shifted his gaze to Spike. "Clean up. Out there," Dean's mind was trying to function, leaving him to only repeat words. Slowly it started to kick back in. He nodded. "I don't know, you are kind of cute when you’re jealous." Dean smirked. "I trust you." He leaned in and kissed him before going back to the bathroom to clean up.

Spike was quiet as he followed, but he was relaxed. And a bit amused. Damn the hunter, he could change his moods so easily.


	6. Chapter 6

They’d already been to two gambling halls, the slave market and a couple of bars. Many of the faces had changed, but the bar tenders always knew which way to point you if you had questions. Sometimes it took an iron fist in their face, but it worked. More often than not, they were referred to Veronika, just like she’d predicted.

As they headed down a dark hall, Spike was puffing on his cigarette when he saw a human woman sitting on the ground, paler than himself. Six straws were attached to her body and the vampires around her were sucking her dry, laughing, and making fun. Right… reminded him of his good old days when that little thing called guilt wasn’t in the equation.

Trying to distract Dean, he put his arm around his waist and kissed him on the mouth… like Dean was his possession, same as all the other vampires did to their human toys. 

It was too late. Dean’s anger spiked at the sight of the outnumbered girl who was too weak to fight and, even if she wanted this, shouldn’t. He had been taught all his life, save lives. As many as you can. Do the right thing. Do what you have to. Don't stand by and let people endure. Those things were ingrained into Dean since he was a kid. No longer a son but a solider. A tool in his father's fight. And not even Spike's kisses were distracting him from that mission. "I can't let this go," he whispered with anger giving an edge to his as he tried to detangle from Spike. "I can't let her die." And neither could his brother. Sam would hate him if he didn't do something.

Dean managed to pull away from Spike and turned on the vampires. "I think you piss-offs had enough." He snarled as he kicked one in the teeth.

Spike cursed and followed him, grabbing his vest and trying to pull him back. “He didn’t mean that. Just not happy he’s on tomorrow’s menu, yeah?” He gave the vampires an easy smile. 

Several of them shifted into game face and were snarling as they approached.

“Don’t think they’re amused,” he told Dean. “Six of them, and two of us… I see now why the other brother is the smart one.” As he joked, he positioned himself. They weren’t getting out of this without a fight. 

Dean placed his back to Spike then reached behind him, feeling for the Colt and pulling it out. "Yeah well, he may be the smart one but I'm the brawn." Dean whipped around and kicked one vampire between the legs then slammed his face into his knee before whipping around and firing at one over Spike's shoulder.

“Watch where you aim that thing, I’d rather keep my bits.” Spike sounded as if he was speaking about the weather, even as he exploded into action, grabbing two vampires and knocking their heads together. “Hmmm, they don’t seem happy.” It was an understatement. Spike took a punch to his stomach, but stopped the second one cold with his bare hands. Smirking, he twisted the vamp’s arm behind its back, breaking it, then kicked it in the arse, sending it hurtling toward Dean.

The vampire Dean shot, sparked with a red glow then jerked before he fell to the ground. Dead. Dusted. Dean grabbed the one coming at him and rammed his head into the wall by the shear momentum of his movements. "I wouldn't call them bits, sunshine," Dean slugged one of the vampires before he was struck, sent flying backwards.

“Big bits, then. Did you call me a pet name? Who’s the bloody vampire here?” Rhythmically moving his upper body left and right to dodge the blows of the vamp he was dealing with, Spike waited for his opening, and kicked its knees out from under him. “Fuck… this one’s a bit like old gum…” he kicked the hands that were trying to twist his leg and bring him down.

Dean lifted his leg in time to kick the bastard coming at him, and then fired at the one gripping Spike's leg, killing it. "Well feel lucky he won't be stuck under your shoe." Dean glared at the others then quickly fired, not leaving a one standing.

He wiped the blood from his mouth then went over to the girl, checking on her. "It's okay," he spoke softly as he pulled the straws from her. "We need to get her someplace safe."

Spike walked through the vampire dust, and twisted the gun out of Dean’s hand. In case there were questions, he wanted to make sure it was clear that the weapon was his and not the human’s. Not that he was overly worried. Killing each other in the Haven was not against any rules, but it might buy you enemies. It was only the end game... the escape ...that would rain the wrath of those who ran Dark Haven on them, but it was no use thinking about that now. 

Allowing the boy another minute to take the last straw out, Spike gripped Dean’s shoulder and started to steer him away. She was a lost cause, and this had been a waste of time. 

The rebellion in those green eyes always got to him. He gave a warning shake of his head. “Too late for her. Even if you save her, she’ll never be right.” He touched his temple. “Won’t get her life back. Best you let her go.” He’d heard her heart stall out, and knew that her brain had to be damaged. “Said you trusted me.”

Dean still crouched by the girl, brushing her hair back. He said a silent pray for her. He hated to leave her like this. Hated that he could not put her soul to rest as he should. Even if she didn't haunt him paranormally, she was gonna haunt his dreams as one of the ones he couldn't save. Slowly Dean pushed up, "I may have to let her go but doesn't mean I have to like it." He spoke as he started walking away.

"Now wait just a moment." Spike easily caught up to Dean and wrapped his fingers like a vice around his upper arm as they continued their fast paced march along the tunnels. "You don't have to like it, no argument there. But before I brought you in here, made it clear you won't like what you see. Lots of misery, lots of death... and that you _cannot_ do anything about it. What you did back there... foolish. If we hadn’t gotten away with it, you would be kissing your precious brother goodbye. Think about that the next time you try something like this." He clammed up as they passed a group with inquisitive eyes, then continued when they were quite a distance. "Pull something like that again, and I will get you out of here myself."  
Dean looked down at his arm then at Spike, "Fine. Let's find my brother and get the hell out of here." He drew in several breaths to calm himself down. This was not gonna be a good night, day, whatever it was. He just needed to locate his brother, get him out and things would go back to how they were. 

* * * 

Sam flew across the arena, smacking his back against the stone. He was already beaten, bruised and bloodied... fresh blood was covering dried blood. As the creatur attacked him, Sam pushed up and punched it over and over again till he got to the knife he had dropped. He dived for it, rolling and when he came around he slashed into the air, cutting the creature’s it's throat. Blood splattered him and he rolled before the body could fall on him. 

He heard cheers as he got up and it made him sick. "Find me, Dean," he whispered as he looked around at the audience seated in the dark shadows around the arena. 

 

* * *

The night went downhill from there. And up. There were those good times when they questioned people and worked really well together... threatening, cajoling, fighting, teasing, lying... anything to get some information. They did get a few names of vampires with new 'catches' that might fit Sam's description, but nothing concrete. 

Dean had always been the impatient one. Sam was the calm one and usually kept his brother that way but now he was missing. Answers were coming but not the ones Dean wanted to hear. A direct one. The location of his brother. The cat and mouse games were picking at his nerves. 

Spike could see impatience and annoyance bubbling right under Dean's skin and kept a close watch on him to make sure he didn't explode or fuck things up. At one such moment, he leaned over and kissed his temple, whispering a reminder in his ear. "Supposed to be playing meek pet, not a crusader, yeah?"

 

Dean jumped a bit when Spike leaned in, his words trickling into Dean’s ear. "Yeah, yeah, I know," was Dean's response as he stared at his drink. It was clear Dean was tired. However another thing was clear - he would not quit till he found his brother. "So what is next?" Dean asked, low, soft, turning his head to Spike. 

Spike hesitated for a minute, then said what had to be. "We start to hit the whore houses."

Dean twisted his head more to look at Spike with this 'really' look upon his face. He then downed his drink. "I have a feeling I'm not gonna like this am I." He pushed up from his stool and followed Spike out. Twists and turns were taken before Spike had him walking into a door. Inside, Dean was immediately hit by the scent of blood and sex. He felt his stomach turn, hating to think Sam could be here. "Question, you have a reason to come in here and tow me along?" Cause he figured, why would a vampire with a sex slave show up at a place like this.

"Come on _pretty boy_ , don't tell me you've never heard of a threesome." In response to the incredulous expression on Dean's face, Spike barked out a laugh. "Don't forget, I did tell Veronika I like to watch Sam fuck you. Didn’t really think I’d stand there and not participate, did you?" He was baiting him, yeah. But he couldn't help himself. It might also distract Dean from some of the sounds. Places like this didn't always operate on principles of voluntariness. He hoped they wouldn't find Sam here, he really did, but he didn't want to leave any stone unturned either.

* * * 

Sam was shoved into his cage. A woman walked up to it. "You did well, Sammy. I'm proud of you." 

"Fuck off, bitch," Sam spoke from his corner. He ached. He was cut. Sweat stung his wounds, blood was dried and pulling at his skin. Dirt stuck to him. Sam hated this place.

"Oh, don't be that way, Sammy," she tipped her head to him with a tsking smirk.

"It's Sam, only my brother gets to call me that." 

"Well you are the one in the cage." she paced about, fingers playing along the bars, "See, some of us know about you Sam Winchester. The anti-christ boy king. Leader of the Demons." She gave a laugh. "I can see why they like you. Good looks, puppy dog eyes."

"Why did you bring me here?" 

"See what all the hype was about. See if all the tales were true."

"Living up to your expectations?" Sam growled.

"Oh, more. Your daddy trained you well." She smirked.

"Well now you know, you can let me go."

"No, Sammy. You see, there are demons in some of us as well. We don't like being lead either. Besides, you are much to entertaining." 

"And if I refuse to fight any more?"

"You really don't have a choice. Cause if you don't, every fighter in here, will have a nice turn at you, while we go hunt your brother down and, well I'll let your imagination run." She turned and started walking away.

 

* * *

Dean clenched his jaw. He was watching as Spike worked the room. He was going about, whispering in ears, letting his body be felt up and for some reason, Dean's chest was tight. Jealously? Anger that he had to wait to find his brother or perhaps both? Whichever it was, Dean swore his teeth were gonna crack. 

Worst of it all, he could only sit there and wait like a puppy. A good little puppy. 

Spike felt the weight of Dean's stare, but there wasn't a bloody thing he could do for him. The boy would have to learn patience, no other way to go about this. He needed to find out whether Sam was here, or at any of the other whore houses, fuck houses or glory holes. The only way to do that was to talk with both the patrons, who most likely went hopping from one fuck house to the next, and those who ran the operations, since they often shared their "artists." 

Artists his arse. The hookers were all scared, he could smell it. There were no rules here. If you paid enough, you could kill, and come back the next day for another victim. Some vampires didn't like to go out and hunt anymore. They just gave their specifications, and others did the hunting for them.

He felt a strong pair of hands on his waist and turned his head. "Peter. Fancy meeting you here." Twisting around, he hugged the tall, dark haired vampire, and wasn't a bit surprised by the sudden kiss.

"God I've missed you. You're sight for sore eyes... Come here."

This time, a bit more reluctantly, Spike allowed himself to be pulled into Peter's embrace. Instantly, strong arms closed around him, and a firm mouth clamped over his. The kiss was long, and hard, but all Spike could think about was the anger rolling from Dean... all he could hope was that the hunter would sit tight for just a bit longer. Then Peter's hands were on his arse, massaging, then moving between their bodies. That was when Spike put his palm on Peter's chest and stepped away. "You've made your point. Glad to see you're fine, more ways than one, yeah?"

"Stop playing hard to get, you bastard."

Spike laughed. "I'm in the mood for something... specific. Something in tall, dark and lean... much taller than you. Sweet innocent face and maybe a bit of a tendency to argue."

Peter nodded toward a tall human holding a glass of wine, his hand shaking. "I'll share him with you. Just like old times."

Spike turned. "Taller. Answers to Sam. Sammy."

Dean watched the interaction between the vampires and it took all of his energy to keep from coming off the stool and pulling the two apart, especially when the one started to grope at Spike's ass and front. Instead Dean looked away, which in a place like this, got him no better view. Looking down, he decided to fiddle with his ring. Twisting it around his finger and trying to keep his mind off what was gonna happen. 

Of course, his teeth ground when he heard Sam's name, especially Sammy. Only he was allowed to call his brother that. God, give him strength not to go and tear these bastards apart. Or at least to keep from reaching at Spike's back for the Colt and taking all those bastards down. 

"Sammy... how old fashioned," Peter jeered. "I don't think an artist would be caught with that name, they're all... Candy, Syn, or Baby. Some should really be called carpet."

That understatement got a laugh out of Spike. "And why is it you're looking for a carpet to lay on?" He raised a brow. "Used to be a time when you liked them lively."

"Tastes change. Grow. Since when do you keep humans?" Peter nodded toward Dean, knowing Spike usually hung out with Vampires or at least didn't bother with human pets.

"Tastes change," Spike echoed. "I'd best be moving along then. This hunger...."

Peter nodded. "Oh, you know.... could be nothing but.."

"But?" Bloody vampire, that's how he'd always been, giving information out in bleedin' dribbles. Spike tried to appear relaxed and patient. 

"In the fighting arena tonight, there was a tall kid. Did pretty good. They called him 'Sam the Spawn.' Tall, pretty damned fuckable but he made them too much money for them to loan him out to the whorehouses. If that's the guy."

"Eh, he wouldn't survive one fight," Spike shrugged. "Might check it out though." It never paid to let anyone know how badly you wanted something.

"If you get him, be sure to grab me. We can do him until he's senseless."

"Mmm." Leaning in, Spike kissed him lightly. "I'll keep that thought in mind."

A moment later, he had his hand on Dean's and was dragging him out of the whorehouse. "You alright? 

Dean swore, at that moment, THAT was THEE most STUPIDEST question in the world. He flashed glaring green eyes at Spike but kept his mouth shut. It was taking all his last remaining effort to prevent himself from just taking his aggravation and anger out on the nearest person, which happen to be Spike. Funny how he was part of the cause. 

"So you find out anything?" The words were strained in an attempt to keep the anger out. Even his fists balled but were forced to relax. "Tell me you found something out and that all wasn't a waste of time." Time Dean didn't think he had.

Spike reined in the temptation to tease. "Maybe." He put an arm around Dean's waist, holding him firmly in order to prevent any sudden half thought-out actions. "Told me there's a new fighter in the pit called Sam the Spawn. Tall and... fuckable." Right, maybe he did tease, just a bit.

Dean's eyes shifted to the side, giving Spike a warning look that he was pushing him too much. WAY too much. "Then let's go check it out. If it's him, let's get him and get the fuck out of here." Dean had about enough of this place. Especially since he couldn't kill half these bastards who really deserved it. "And don't tell me we have to wait." That was also a warning. 

"Wait, no. Calm down... yes. If you get us killed here, there'll be no saving your brother." He didn't think he had to say more, not when the word 'brother' seemed to have _magical properties,_ he thought, a bit sourly. "Pits are this way."

"Calm down," Dean muttered under his breath with a roll of his eyes. Dean drew a deep breath, reminding himself, this was all for Sam. He’d promised his little brother and his father that he’d take care of him. Do whatever it took. Give up whatever he had to in order to keep Sam safe. This was small compared to trading his soul. If he could do that, he could do this. But goddamnit it was hard.

He walked down the stairs toward the pit, scanning his eyes around as he looked for signs of Sam. The temptation to call out was there but Dean was biting his tongue. And damn, Spike wasn't moving fast enough for Dean either. 

There was a strong stench of blood, pain and burned flesh. The arena was empty and Spike found out the next round of events would begin in three hours. Of course eager-hunter-boy was already headed to the area underneath the pit, where the fighters were kept. Catching up, he gave Dean a warning glance, and started past the guards.

"We're closed now," one of the guards said.

"We'll just have a quick look, then. Need to know who to put my blunt on, yeah?" He cocked his head. "Come on, mate, you don't want to end up like the dead fighters." When the man didn't budge, Spike slammed him up against the wall. There was a fierce, but short struggle... ended up with the guard pushed up against the wall, bleeding badly from the nose. "Right... we'll have a quick look, then,." Sneering, he released the bloke and nodded for Dean to walk inside.

The tunnels here were narrow, the lighting bad. The walls on both sides were lined with prison bars, behind which the fighters sat, or stood, or exercised... sweated and bled, cried or growled in frustration. Spike kept his eyes on the fighters on one side, while Dean searched the other. When Spike heard some footfalls coming their way, he dragged Dean up against him. "Sorry, luv, not quite the place for a date but..." Then his mouth was moving over Dean's as if they had all the time in the world.  
Dean had been peering into the dark. His heart was beating fast with hope, wanting to see his brother. And yet not wanting to. Hoping he was elsewhere and not dead. Suddenly Dean's back was against the bars and all he heard was 'luv' and 'date' before his mouth was covered. Dean instantly responded, parting his lips, kissing Spike back. Damn, he felt like his knees would give. 

He rested his hand on Spike's hips, squeezing before pulling him closer. When he heard someone pass, he was finally able to pull his mouth away to look and see if it was clear to move on. But his skin was flushed, his lips swollen from kissing. His body heat had risen as well as his heartbeat. Dean should hate himself for reacting this way when he should be finding his brother, but this was Spike. And then they were moving again, "That was some kissing. Good act." Dean glanced over to him, wondering if it really was act.

Spike locked gazes with him. “Bollocks.”

"What?" Dean stopped a moment. "Can we talk English here?"

“Far as I know, that was English. We started the language, yeah?” He cocked his head, “You’re the only actor here. I take the direct approach.” Should be obvious enough, even to the apparently dense hunter.

"Yeah, well, we made the language better," Dean mumbled. "Let's just find, Sam." He started walking, moving down cell by cell feeling torn and confused. He hadn’t felt this way with anyone except with his father or Cassie. And Cassie he thought he loved. 

Spike shook his head. Whole world would fall apart if the hunter admitted he liked it. Only times you got him to admit to that or to needing anything was during sex, or maybe when he wanted help with little brother. 

More stench. More misery. More threats of being thrown out of where they didn’t belong. Spike had to part with some of his hard earned money, that he’d stolen from Dean, who’d stolen from someone else. One thing was clear at the end of his conversation with the barrel chested demon that he’d bribed, the place would be in lock-down soon. They had to rush.

If he weren’t afraid Dean would be taken for use as a fighter, he would have suggested they split up. Even with the colt Dean trusted so much, Spike didn’t want to take chances. Outnumbered was outnumbered.

Again, there were sounds of boots heading their way. Spike could tell it was the guy he’d bribed, but it was best that he continued to think they were here to fuck as they watched the fighters. Without any notice to Dean, he slid his hand around his waist, pressing his palm into his stomach, and leaned in so his cock jammed up against his arse. “Turn. Kiss me,” he ordered, his cock coming to attention at the speed with which Dean leaned back, rested his head on Spike’s shoulder and gave him access to his mouth. 

Dean felt cold bars against his chest. His hands grabbed at them as he pressed back. His body was responding all too eagerly. He hated and loved it all at the same time. Someone was coming, this time he heard the heavy boots. But Spike’s actions were just too quick. Dean turned his head, parting his lips as his mouth closed in against Spike's. He gave as good as he got, making it look really good. 

In the cell, Sam lifted his green eyes and they shot open wide as he saw the tattoo first, then recognized his brother. His eyes quickly darted to the passing guard but he wanted to launch up and get to his brother. But his brother was kissing another man. Another MAN! His stomach turned.


	7. Chapter 7

After the guard was gone, Sam jumped up, "Dean?"

Maybe it was his ego, maybe it was to prove to himself that for a few seconds, he could take precedence over the younger brother, but whatever it was, it drove Spike to deepen the kiss. As he fucked the hunter’s mouth with the experience of a hundred years, he moved his hands over his tight abs and thrust lightly against him until he was satisfied by the slight groan that broke from Dean.

"Get your mouth and hands off my brother," Sam growled as he approached the bars, ready to push the bastard vampire away. He had to be forcing Dean, which angered the younger Winchester to no end. His brother wouldn't and wasn't into this kind of thing as Dean had stated straight out so many times. Sam had to protect his brother as much as Dean felt he had to protect Sam, and Sam wasn't about to let this bastard get his jollies off on his brother.

Pulling away, Spike smirked. “Must be Sammy. I’m Spike,” he finally released Dean and stepped to his side. “Don’t look so bloody shocked, you know he’d do anything for you.”

"It's Sam. Only he," Sam motioned at his brother with his head, "Gets to call me that." His attention turned to Dean from Spike.

Dean was left breathless and his body was on fire. Dazed, it wasn't till Spike was saying Sam's name that he snapped out of it. "Sammy?" He quickly turned and reached out for his brother, cupping the back of his neck, "You okay?"

"So glad you are here," Sam placed his hand on Dean's wrist. It grounded him but he glared at the Vampire. 

"Gonna get you out of here." He cupped Sam's cheek tenderly to re-enforce that promise. Dean looked at the cell lock then to Spike, "How do we get it open?"

“Our friend, the Troghoy demon should be back anytime.” He gripped the steel bars and tugged, but they were built to withstand a great deal of strength. “Heard keys jingling in his pocket. Decided I paid him too much for just the opportunity to grope you yeah?” Spike turned his head, “Don’t suppose we should go ahead with the groping until he gets back. Give Sam here a show.”

Sam glared in response, but what could he do behind bars? 

Dean gave Spike a look as if he lost his mind and turned back to Sam, "You got anything I can pick this lock with?" Sam shook his head. Dean looked him over then shrugged, "Just thought I ask."

 

"Dean. Does it look like I can hide anything." Sam spread his arms out. Of course he couldn't hide anything with no shirt, his jeans were nearly in shreds. He dropped his hands then stepped closer. "What about you?" He asked Spike. 

 

Dean looked over to Spike, the same question reflected in his expression. 

“Do I look like a thief?" Spike’s gaze traveled between the brothers. “Got a dagger and a stake... won’t do any good. And your gun, but that’s not a good idea. No point in getting you out and drawing everyone in here. So... won your fights, did you? We could have made a bit of blunt off the fight...”

Sam looked at Dean, "You let him have the Colt? Dean?" Sam couldn't believe his brother. "What is wrong with you?" 

"Nothing," Dean gave his brother a bit of an irritated look. "Let's just get you out of here first, then I'll explain things." 

"Dean, they know. About me."

 

Dean got a frantic look on his face. He started looking up, no way to crawl out over the top. And no way to dig out either. "Okay, we need to get that guy ... demon ... whatever, who has the keys and get them from him."

“No worries, mate, he’ll be back. He’s got to make sure we’re out at lock down.” Spike focused again on Sam. “You said they know about you. What do they want with you?” Since Sam had been thrown into the fighting pit, it didn’t seem as if anyone was trying to use him to lead a demon army or to punish him for having that potential. “Don’t seem to be treating you different from all of—“ Spike swept his arm around, indicating all the other enslaved fighters.

"Sam is supposed to be the leader to a demon army set up by Azaral. Right now, they are all out here, leaderless. We let them loose, by accident." Dean answered as he was looking at the lock. Damn, if he only had his kit.

“Some accident. Not the ‘oops sort,” the vampire pondered

"They said they wanted to see what makes me 'special,' why I get to lead an army. I tried to tell them I have no intention of leading any army or ... anything." Sam placed his hands on the bars. He was looking down the way. "I don't have my abilities any more, nothing."

“Don’t sound happy about it,” Spike pointed out. Suddenly his relaxed demeanor changed, and he grabbed Dean, swinging him around so his back was to the bars. Spike buried his face in the hunter’s neck, but his gaze was laser focused on Sam’s face. “Right, want you to moan my name. Go on.”

The sudden movement made Sam tense up. 

"What?!" Dean was startled but also starting to get used to being thrown against the damned bars. He was sure his back was gonna show bruises. "No." 

Sam moved closer, pressing to the bars, "Let him go!"

“Or what?” Spike made his point, and bit Dean’s ear lobe to get the hunter into action. “My name, make it good.” Moving his hand between their bodies, he reached inside his own clothes for the stake. “Do it.”

Dean squirmed and gritted his teeth, his eyes closing at the nip to his ear. Damnit. He had to trust Spike. He heard things Dean couldn't. And the fact his body was responding on it's own was secondary. 

Sam started to reach between the bars when he heard Dean's voice, strained as it was, "Sammy, don't. It's okay." 

Sam leaned in, "Hurt my brother and I'll kill you." It was a threat and a promise.

Dean realized that at that moment, Sam sounded like him. He wrapped an arm around Spike. "Spiiiike," Dean groaned making it really good.

“Fuck... fuck, yeah,” the vampire responded, pushing the stake he’d retrieved into Dean’s hand. “Again... say my name. Go on.” At that moment, he saw Sam’s eyes flicker to the right. The human had finally picked up on the fact that three guards were on their way. “My name,” he grit out, knowing Dean was being stubborn. 

Dean's fingers curled around the stake and Sam tried to continue to hold his angry expression. Dean raked his blunt nails down Spike's back, enjoying and half acting. He moaned then voiced it, "Spiiike," he rocked his hips into Spike but his fingers were tight around the wood of the stake, holding firm to it.

The guards arrived, gawking and laughing. “You’re going to have to finish this outside.” When the Troghay demon spoke, his voice was far more gravelly than earlier. “Maybe you can pass your pet around. We’ll let you back in here tomorrow.” 

“I like how you think and so does my dick,” the other guard threw out.

Spike released the stake, lifted his head and silently counted so Dean could see. On three, they both exploded into action. He attacked the demon he’d bribed, slamming his elbow directly into its face as he whipped around, and following with a powerful kick to its back. 

The demon roared and seemed to grow larger as he rushed Spike. 

Dean also sprang into action, anger fueling his actions. He used the stake to and slammed it against the head of the vampire, repeating the motion several times before rearing back and stabbing the vampire in the heart. Blood splattered upon Dean as he pushed it deeper before stepping back as the vampire turned to ash. He turned around, hoping Spike would remember the Colt.

Spike was thrown, face first into the bars, and couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe Sam had enjoyed that. Gritting his teeth, he turned and lunged into the demon again, ramming it into the back of the remaining vampire. “Shut him up!” 

Trusting Dean to take care of the vamp, he put everything out of his mind but killing the large demon. Walls were dented. Bars moved under the force of their bodies. Other prisoners began to chant. Cursing, he managed to get behind the demon and get it into head lock. With one hand, he pressed the side of its hide covered face, growling with effort until the sound of a sickening crack ended the matter. 

Letting the demon fall, he looked over and saw Dean was alright and there were two piles of dust on the ground. “We’d best let others out too, more guards on their way, need to be kept busy.” Fuck, he’d hoped they’d manage to do this quietly, but silencing the other prisoners was impossible.

Dean rushed over to the body, grabbed the keys and opened the cell that held Sam. He then pushed Sam to Spike, "Go, get out, I'll let the other loose." 

"No, not leaving without you," Sam grabbed his brother, trying to tug him along. Dean was opening up cells as fast as he could. He was pushing them along, going with the flow of the escaping fighters.

As more guards poured in and the narrow tunnel became clogged with fighters, Spike opened up paths for them, tossing people aside, breaking blows that might have struck. The banter between the brothers amused him. “Come on ladies, move your arses... this isn’t a shoe sale.”

They neared the exit, where the heaviest fighting was taking place. Spike pressed himself flat against the wall, allowing a few more of the slave fighters to get by... might as well use them as fodder for the guards. “Throw the key, and let’s get out,” he nodded towards the opening.

Dean shoved the keys to Sam. He was the tallest and he could reach over most of them. Sam drew back and tossed the keys, sending them flying so that the guards surged to follow and get at them.

"Move your ass," Dean was shoving Sam as the brothers made their way out. Dean grabbed Spike, pulling him with him, "Let's go." 

“Does my heart good to know you care,” the vampire almost smiled as he pressed his way out.

Rushing out, Dean let Spike lead the way up the stairs and through winding halls, then out some door to get to a narrow tunnel. "We need someplace safe," Dean muttered in searching about.

"This way," Sam pulled open another door, where the tunnel fed into a larger one

After putting a lot of distance between themselves and the fighting pit, they slowed. Spike put an arm around each of his humans, very aware that while Dean wasn’t fighting him, Sam was about to pull away. “Tell him to be a good pet. We’re almost to our room,” he told Dean. 

"Just play along Sam." Dean gave his brother a look. Sam gave Dean his usual discomforted look and stayed tense, though he remained close to Spike, walking and hunching in an attempt to make himself look smaller. 

Dean slipped his arm around Spike and grabbed at Sam's belt loop to keep him close. "Let's just get to the room, get a drink and we'll be out of here soon."

Spike tapped his fingers on Sam’s smooth bare stomach, looking for all the world like the revved up owner of two pets. If Sam weren’t with them, there would definitely be fucking going on with the drinking Dean had mentioned. Damn. Leaning to reach Dean’s ear, he whispered. “So... you fucking Sam... out of the question?" It was a joke, but a surprisingly strong twinge of jealousy ran through him, even with the knowledge that watching the two of them go at it would turn him on. 

"He's my brother," Dean answered and left it at that. "Why, jealous?" Dean asked and thinking this would be a good time to get even with Spike and that other guy who was kissing and groping all over Spike while he had to watch.

Half sucking his cheeks in as he cocked his head, Spike didn’t answer at first. Heat pulsed between them, whether or not they had company, and he wanted Dean to know that. “Should I be?” 

Dean just gave Spike a slight smirk and a shrug. Let his imagination run. He then leaned into Spike's ear, "Perhaps we should fuck on it and find out?"

Spike’s mouth went dry. “Yeah...” Once again, the hunter surprised him. He’d for sure have thought any talk of the brothers fucking each other would have earned him a slug. The guy sure hadn’t liked hearing talk of it when he was with Veronika. “Might have to wank to that...”

Sam glanced over, hearing the little muffled sounds. "You guys aren't gonna moan again are you?"

"C'mon, Sammy, you liked it," Dean teased.

"Dude, I've seen your backside, I wanted to gouge my eyes out remember." Sam stopped in front of a door As Spike opened it.

"Dude, sex is a natural thing. Beautiful in fact. Especially with me." Dean smiled brightly, taking joy in teasing his brother. "I know you have been off the grid in sex, doesn't mean I have to."

"Jerk." 

"Bitch."

“Don’t worry, Cinderella, I’ve seen your backside and it made me do everything but want to gouge my eyes out.” Spike’s hand momentarily slid to Dean’s arse, before he let go and unlocked the door. “Clothing’s optional in here.” It was more directed at Sam to goad him even more.

Sam gave Spike another look of annoyance that told the vampire didn't have a chance in hell to see that. He pushed inside.

"I need a shower," Dean followed him in, "How about you, Sammy?" He slapped his back.

Spike headed for the table, picked up a bottle of hard liquor and poured two glasses. Lifting the bottle to his mouth, he looked at them, but didn’t say a thing.

Sam nodded, glanced at Spike before going looking back at Dean, "You gonna be okay?" Meaning alone out here with his vampire companion without getting molested and drained by him.

Dean nodded, "Dude, I'll be fine.." He pushed Sam toward the bathrom. Once the door shut, he shifted his attention back to Spike and moved over. "Thank you. For getting Sam back." He drew his breath and held it a bit, "And when we are out, I'll uphold my part of the deal."

Bargain. Right. Spike forced a smile. “You do that.”

Dean looked down, took the glass and swallowed the golden liquid down before he sat the empty glass down. Then grabbed Spike, kissing him hard. Maybe he was showing too much emotion, but he didn't care.

Just like that, Spike was on fire and kissing him back with all the lust of a vampire who knew time was short. With an iron grip on Dean’s hips, he dragged him up against his thickening cock, wishing... needing to be inside him. The hunter was in his blood... and there was no way he’d get him out, no way he could think of.

The shower had turned on but at the moment, Dean didn't care. Well, much anyway. He was kissing Spike, something he wanted to do without someone watching. As he kissed him deeply, Dean dragged his own hips over that thick covered cock. His fingers cupped Spike's ass, holding him tightly against his body. He moaned into Spike's mouth, not hiding how he was feeling… not putting it on for show like in the pits. It was for real. 

Spike couldn’t get enough of Dean, enough of his taste, of how he felt against him. “Dean... you make me really...” he thrust, “need...” he thrust again, harder, “to fuck.” Already, his mind was a jumble of scenarios... ways he’d hold the hunter down until he pleaded for release. How he’d sink into him, deep, burying his shaft in that tight ass, fucking, needing, taking everything the hunter would give him. 

Dean grabbed Spike's shirt was tearing it off the vampire's body. He dropped his head down, biting at Spike's neck as he spoke and groaned, "Then... fuck me. Need you," Dean added, pulling Spike’s vest off starting to work on Spike's pants. If anything, he could suck Spike off. It still amazed Dean how much this vampire could light his fire and send it raging in such a short period of time.

“Best three minute fuck, ever,” Spike promised, letting Dean take him out, then turning him around. Standing behind him, he undid Dean's pants and pushed them down as Dean braced against the wall. Spike tugged Dean’s waist, forcing him to bend over more as he pressed his surging cock against his entrance. “Really need to start carrying lube,” he muttered raggedly into Dean’s ear as he pushed inside. He should have been gentle, but he wasn’t... couldn’t be. Not when they had so little time. Not when Dean took him... all of him, and bucked against him for more. 

Spike’s mind shut down as he thust his hips forward like a mindless piston, needing, wanting, climbing... fucking. “Anh... Anh...” sounds broke out of him as well as from Dean as they fucked hard, and fast. 

Dean had been pressed hard against the wall. His moans and grunts vibrating against it. He could hear the water running, hitting the tub. He could hear his own heart pounding in his ears and most importantly, he was being fucked and that filled the air. Dean rocked, his head turned to one side and his hands were pushing him back to Spike. Spike was driving hard into him and Dean let out some gurgled sounds.

The sound of Dean’s heart thrummed in his ears, made Spike fuck harder... Until he heard another heart beat. Regular at first, then it kicked up. Even aware of Sam’s presence, Spike couldn’t help himself from coming inside Dean. By the time he turned his head, the bathroom door was closed and the water was still going.

Dean clawed at Spike as the vampire released inside him. He closed his eyes tightly as his own release burned through him. When he was finished, Dean panted, face against the cool wall. "That... " he panted again, "Gowd, needed that." Needed Spike.

Spike slid his hand around Dean’s neck, to his throat, feeling the guy’s pulse jumping for him. “Me too, luv,” he turned him around and kissed him, then let go. “Me too.” He watched as the hunter rushed into the bathroom, clueless that his precious brother had seen. Two minutes later, he wasn’t surprised when the precious brother walked out with a towel tucked around his waist, and eyes blazing with hatred.

Spike unwaveringly met his gaze. “You have questions. 'Bout what you saw.” He wished he could tell the truth, but Dean couldn’t handle it himself... how the fuck would he handle it if he told his brother. “It’s like this, Sammy.” Standing next to the table, Spike knocked back a bit more liquor. “He’d do anything for you. Make any deal, for you. Deal was his body, my help. Got that? So what you saw was me getting my end of the bargain.”

Danger flared in Sam’s eyes, a warning that teetered on demonesque. He reached Spike, drew back and punched him. "If you had any sort of soul you wouldn't have accepted." He snarled. "But how can I expect that from someone like you."

Spike rocked back under the force of the blow and ran his hand over his jaw. He tasted a bit of blood... his own, and licked the corner of his mouth. “Well, there you are. Can’t trust any of us. We’re beneath you, yeah? But sometimes we like one of you to be under us,” his mouth twisted into a smile. “Even if you don’t like it as much.” 

"I'm talking to you as a person not a vampire. A person who obviously just doesn't care for anyone but himself. I know Dean will do anything as I would for him but you..." Sam felt his anger do the opposite of dwindle, felt his fists balling with the need to punch Spike again. 

 

"You're lecturing a vampire on manners?" Spike laughed... and couldn't stop. It was ridiculous and somehow, so damned precious. Sam _was_ talking to him like another person, he really was.

 

"You're a real bastard. Don't touch my brother again. He fulfilled his agreement." Sam towered over Spike. 

“When I’m done with him, you can have him back, little brother.” He was intentionally enraging him, making sure there was no mistake... that Sam understood what he’d seen meant nothing other than Dean was forced to allow Spike to fuck him.

Sam lashed out and punched Spike again and this time he wasn't stopping. Fists went flying and Sam wasn’t pulling his punches. Spike fueled Sam’s anger, but for the most part fought defensively.

Dean heard the noise even in the shower and he climbed out, towel about him and he saw the fight. "Sam!" Dean headed for them to pull them apart.

Spike threw Sam at Dean, and watched as Dean struggled to control Sam. “Yup. He’s acting about the same as you did, when I told you the deal. Baby brother doesn’t like that I get to fuck you for bringing you in.” His gaze locked with Dean’s. “Caught an eyeful of something he didn’t like, but he didn’t like the explanation any better.”

"Goddamnit, Spike," Dean held Sam tight to him, "Go get him some clothing." He pushed Sam back against the wall.

Giving a curt nod, Spike watched Dean try to cool Sam off for another minute, before heading for the door. “Don’t leave the room, and don’t forget to put the collar back on.” He pulled the door shut behind him and considered staying to listen. Nah. Dean could handle this. He’d hidden the trips to the club well enough until now, this lie should be easy.

Dean let go of Sam. "Sam, just stop it. He's helping us."

"Helping us or getting what he wants out of you. Dean, you don't have to..." Sam started as he grabbed his towel to cover himself again.

"I wanted to. Sam, I've been seeing Spike for a while."

"What?!" Shocked, Sam stared at his brother. "Dean, what is going..."

"Just shut up and listen. After one of our hunts, I had too much energy. I couldn’t sleep... I couldn’t... I went to a club that ... specializes in that kind of activity. I met him there. I thought it would only be one time. I think we both did but, it didn't turn out that way."

Sam blinked at his brother. "Why?"

"Because I'm gonna die, Sam. Why the hell not?" He shrugged. "I've been seeing him ever since."

"That is not a reason, Dean. You dying." 

Dean mere gave a shrug and Sam could see in his brother that there was more to it than his impending death. It might have been that at first. Dean had been taking a hell of a lot of risks because of that, because he was dying, but that had changed. And this too was different and Sam saw right through it. This was more. "So why is he saying the things he is?" Sam crossed his arms.

"Because..." Dean looked down.

"Because you care for him, and he..." Sam dropped his arms. 

Dean just looked at his brother.


	8. Chapter 8

By the time Spike came back, the brothers were dressed and appeared calm. He dropped a stretchy black blouse down on the table next to Sam, and then added a collar with ‘Spike’ embossed on it. There was a warning light in his eyes... he meant business. Drawing up a chair to join them, he noticed they’d done a good job of knocking back most of the liquor. “They haven’t caught all the escaped fighters, which means the search isn’t narrowed to you,” looked at Sam. “Works in our favor, yeah? But all areas near the exit are swarming.” 

"So we hang out for a while, wait till it calms down a bit then make our way out?" Dean asked as Sam stared at the collar. "C'mon, Sammy, just for a bit. Besides, matches your big puppy dog eyes."

“No collar... no claim. Means anyone can do anything they want to you. If you’re collared, there’s a bit of a protection. Someone else wants you, they have to buy you or fight for you. Unless they’re new and stupid, not many will take that bet.” He leaned back in his chair, confident his reputation would keep the buggers away. 

“You weren’t wearing one in the fighting pits... so far, we’ve done nothing wrong in getting you out of there without challenging your owner. Prior owners come for you and see my collar, we may have a fight on our hands, they’ll probably challenge. The real problem is in getting you out of Dark Haven. Stealing a slave and using force is part of the game. Taking them outside when they were brought in by another... unless the prior owners are dead,” he shrugged, leaving them to reach their conclusions. “Bright side, it could have been pink. Ask Dean, I have a thing for it, yeah?”

Dean nodded, "Not your color, Sammy."

"They were female vampires, I don't know their names. A different one came by between fights. Sarah, Lisa, Maria, but they wanted me to fight because they knew what I was to become. Could be." Sam was looking at Dean. "It might be harder to get out than we think.”

Dean looked over to Spike, "You think that will be a problem?"

“Could be. A lot of the fighters have more than one owner. Harder to get rid of them to get him free and clear. And if he was targeted on the outside, must mean someone or some people are more than a bit interested in him.” Spike stood up and paced away. “If we don’t know how many owners will lay claim to him, we can’t flush them out one by one and take care of them. And if we’re stopped at the gate, I’ll need to kill each one. Not a problem if it’s a few, but they know the rules... if they didn’t want to lose him, they’d make sure they have a claim that he was brought in by a group. Depending on how large...” he spread his hands. Turning to look at them, he came to a decision. “We’d best be ready to fight our way out. Make our way as close to the exit as possible. Play in the clubs, have drinks and...”

"What?!" Sam asked, looking over to Dean trying to get some kind of support or clarification. "Didn't you bring... you know." Sam asked.

"Yes, not stupid. But we still need to figure out another way without using it." Dean took a drink. "How about a disguise? Maybe dress Sam up as a vampire?"

"This is not a Halloween party," Sam looked at his brother. 

"Better than dressing you as a girl," Dean smirked.

Spike was starting to get used to their way of half talking and half reading each others’ minds. “If we’re stopped, we’ll need to use the gun again. The closer to the exit the better.” Disguises. His gaze shifted to Sam. “Maybe we could vamp him up. Anyone who’s paying attention will know, but there are plenty here who like to dress their slaves up so it won’t be a problem. Might be a good way to at least hide him from anyone looking specifically for him.” 

"Vamping, you mean like vampire not..." Sam looked between them and Dean got this grin on his face. "You wouldn't."

"Don't worry, Sammy, I'll make sure the pumps aren't too tight." Dean was grinning wider.

"Jerk," Sam kicked his brother under the table.

Dean chuckled, "Bitch. Just play along. It will be over soon once we’re out of here."

Spike’s gut clenched. They had history. They had an unbreakable bond, the sort he’d always searched for. He shouldn’t be jealous. He should be happy for them, for Dean.

*

A day and half had passed. They’d gotten to know each other a lot better. Spike wondered if it was just a bit of wishful thinking, but Sam seemed to have thawed and Dean was more relaxed. They’d drunk a lot, and suffered through Dean’s loud music, and worked together.

Outside the room, Spike had a bit of fun with the boys, making more of a show than necessary about owning them. He also took the opportunity to grope Dean like he wanted, because back in the room, neither of them touched each other. At least physically. But heated looks were exchanged. Lots of wishful thoughts. And torture... yeah, Spike couldn’t help licking his lips at just the right moment when Dean was looking, or hooking his thumb into his waistband and making sure Dean’s eyes were drawn to the bulge in his pants. _Bastard_ had been silently mouthed more than once.

The time with the boys had been both fun and painful. Spike watched as they made pipebombs with automatic trigger devices... all the while arguing, and punching each other. Insults flew. Anyone really watching couldn’t fail to see that. Or not want to be part of it.

And now they were approaching zero hour. Drinking at the bar of a club close to the exit, Spike was beating off offers for his slaves and maybe enjoying the way Sam was freaking out at some of the more graphic offers to do him. Dean had gotten more used to it and seemed to be handling himself fine. God he wanted to kiss him. What happened to ‘end of the world sex?’

Dean sat next to Sam, smirking as he took a drink. He glanced over to Spike, knowing how he wanted to touch, to kiss and more. Dean did as well but right now was not the time. He reached over, sliding a hand to rest on Spike's leg and leaned over to whisper in his ear, "When we get out of here, I'll make it so worth it."

“Yes, you are,” Spike answered, trapping the hunter’s hand. Probably a bad idea, but he found himself threading his fingers through Dean’s and squeezing. They’d had a little time alone, when they were planting the pipe bombs. They’d left Sam behind so he wouldn’t be caught close to the exit, but there’d been no time for anything more than one heated kiss. 

Gaze locked with Spike’s, Dean wished his hand could linger and stray, but then Sam bumped Dean. "I think they want us." It was time for Sam's make-up. 

Dean got up, "Let' go get him all pretty. Eyeliner, lipstick." 

Sam glared at Dean.

“Pumps and thongs,” Spike ran his hand over Sam’s ass, smirking as they walked to the back room where they had an appointment with a make-up artist. 

Sam jerked his ass away and gave Spike a warning look. He pushed open the door and was about to turn around and leave when Dean pushed him into the room. "Just do it and get it over with. We'll be outside watching." Dean stepped back from the door.

Spike confirmed there was only one person in the room with Sam, and let Dean pull it mostly shut. From here, they would hear if there were any problems, which he didn’t anticipate. “He’s a bit jumpy.”

“Just nervous." Dean hesitated a moment, looked around then surged in and kissed Spike, taking, demanding, needing. He’d wanted this for so long and now that they were alone, he took his opportunity.

“Mmph.. Dean...” Spike’s arms closed around the hunter, pulling him up so hard he could feel every plane of the guy’s body. Maybe they couldn’t fuck now, but they were doing everything but... mouth’s tasting, taking... bodies colliding, rubbing... cocks straining, wanting. 

Dean devoured, allowed himself to be devoured. He groaned and rubbed, trying to get more friction. He could come this way if given the time. And his need was great. It was obvious from the desperate way his hands explored Spike's body, gripped and clung to him. 

“Mine,” Spike snarled, hardly looking up when someone passed close by them. “Mine,” he repeated more softly, this time telling Dean, showing him every way he knew how. His palm cupped Dean’s face as he kissed him again, made every nerve in the hunter’s body respond to him. _Mine_. 

Dean heard the footsteps that hesitated and moved on. Then Spike said the word again, this time his tone softer and directed at him. He kissed Spike back with more softness and tenderness, trying to relay he’d heard, understood and agreed. He moaned then pulled back just enough to speak, "Yours," he breathed then kissed him deeply.

Spike remembered the Slayer saying something like that years ago. He gave the same pained smile, same answer more or less. “ _Liar_. But thank you for saying so, anyway.” He didn’t give Dean a chance to argue, but covered his mouth with his, kept him too busy and too distracted to think, until the sound of the door opening had Spike jerking away from Dean.

Swallowing, he wiped his fingers across his mouth and turned to find Sam looking ferocious with his bumpy forehead.

Sam stood there, looking between the two. Dean with kiss swollen lips. Spike wiping his mouth. Sam flushed and, okay he avoided looking at their groins. "Can we get out of here now?"

Dean looked at Spike. He was gonna prove Spike wrong. One way or another. "What'd ya think, Spike, if we leave too soon..." He flashed that grin of his.

“Wouldn’t want to cheat Sam out of practicing being a vampire...” he fell into the game, and moved to Dean’s side, putting his arm around his waist. “Sam? Remember, Dean's our tasty human morsel. You want him as much as I do.” When no one moved, he barked, “Put your fucking arm ‘round him, and let’s go.”

Sam blinked at them then moved reluctantly and put his arm around Dean. He started walking with them. He was gonna kill Dean for this. Kill him for enjoying this way too much. Worse, there was something going on inside Sam that he wasn't gonna admit.

Dean looked between the two, seeming to love this, "Dude, I feel like we are some advertisement for one of those phone bars." He chuckled.

Sam pinched him and Dean elbowed him back. Knowing he had the upper hand, Sam goaded, "Hey, behave slave before I make you lick my shoes clean." 

"In your dreams," Dean hissed under his breath.

"Push me, Dean, just push me and see." Sam smirked in triumph. 

“Right, stop arguing and start kissing.” Spike didn’t miss Dean’s indrawn breath before the guy looked away. “Some actors you are...” 

Once they were outside the club, Spike shifted to game face. “Sam, laugh with me. Dean... try to look scared. Think about Sam fucking the shit out of you, from what I saw when that towel fell...” He started to laugh out loud, clapping Sam on the back as the threesome made their way down the tunnel. 

Sam couldn't kiss his brother but he did lean down and whisper under the guise of nibbling on his ear, "I swear, we get out of this, I'm gonna kick your ass." 

Dean just made a face and tried to cock his head away as if he didn't like it. 

"Love it when he is scared," Sam commented to Spike and chuckled. He smacked Dean on the ass and Dean jumped, shooting his brother a look. Dean then shot Spike a look and Sam had to force Dean to keep walking.

One step closer to the exit. Ten times as many pairs of eyes watching, trying to spot anyone who ought not be leaving. Right, it was a good thing no one was nervous, at least outwardly. 

Gangs of vampires roamed around. Some looking for unclaimed humans. Some looking for the freed fighters, either to claim them or return to their owners. The fighting pit owners had their own guards walking round too. “Head down,” Spike whispered to Sam, wanting as little of his features to show as possible.

When they were stopped by a tall brunet with shifty eyes, Spike flirted with him. Any hopes he had of Sam joining in were dashed, though at least Sam made it looked as if he was busy with Dean. Then again, Spike figured at this distance, the vampire knew Sam wasn’t one of them. “My ahhh.... _Vampire friend_ here is going to learn about making our slave ride the iron thorn.”

“You’re going to the Rose. Sounds like a good time.” The brunet’s gaze flicked to Sam. Forcing one human to hurt another was good recreation. 

“Join us?” Spike was already scheming to pull the arse hole into a dark corner and dusting him.

“Maybe later. I’ll look for you.”

“You do that,” Spike said to his retreating back. “Don’t ask what the iron thorn is, won’t like it.”

They were near the exit now. Dean would know, but Sam might not. Spike whispered to them, telling them which tunnels they’d be taking... in case something happened to him. “On three, we set off the bombs and then we leave.” He held out a stake and the colt. “I’ll take the rear.”

Sam had been about to ask then closed his mouth. He grabbed Dean, by his arm and took the Colt, half not trusting Spike, still.

Dean took the Colt from Sam, reaching in his pocket for the trigger. Dean waited till Spike was ready and the bombs went off. Both brother crouched at the explosion and covered their heads. "GO!" Dean pushed Sam and both bothers started running with Spike. 

Initially, all eyes and energies turned toward the explosions. Guards and other denizens of Dark Haven ran toward the fires, to put them out and to investigate. It bought the trio time, but not too much. Spike could feel the tides turning, feel the pursuit even before he looked behind. They came from all around them, game faced, angry and snarling. On the upside, other opportunists were trying to get out as well. Probably human slaves, maybe even some of the fighters they'd released. 

Spike slowed and waited for a couple of blokes to catch. "Did you see them?"

"No--"

He didn't give the second vampire a chance to talk. Within minutes, one was incapacitated and the other a puff of dust. Flipping a stake out, he made sure there were two piles now. Wouldn't do for them to report who it was that was helping the humans escape. Bloody hell, while he was busy lip servicing Dean, he should have been in that room with Sam, exchanging platinum blond hair for something else.

Shouts erupted around them. From a distance, Spike could see the boys were fighting their way out. He didn't feel too badly about how they were doing until a small troop of demon guards came out of a building close to them. "Bugger."

He ran towards them, at times throwing things in the way of his pursuers, taking down as many as he could along the way.

Sam and Dean fought in tandem, Dean taking on more than his fair share and being pretty deadly with the Colt. "Spike, reload!" He shouted, remember he had given the vampire extra rounds. He got close enough to him as he battled his way, grabbing the rounds and ducking as ash fell over him from Sam dispensing a vampire going after him. 

Sam whipped around, stabbing another while Dean reloaded. He ducked down, letting one roll over his back before he stabbed another. "Hurry up," he growled and then he winced as his head started to hurt. He turned in time to see Dean rise up and finish loading the Colt when a demon had his brother by the throat. "DEAN!" Before he knew it, the beast was flying through the air and he didn't even touch him. 

Dean looked back to his brother, a bit shocked but there was no time, "Exit!" Sam shouted at him and they both took off towards the black wrought iron gates. 

"Lets go, Spike!" Dean shouted before he got out and was running down the main tunnel of the old aqueduct where it opened up at street level. Thank God his baby was still there.

Spike was right behind him, but stopped to turn when another voice echoed his name from behind him. The vampire chasing them stopped, and merely pointed and said Spike's name again.

Fuck.

There was no time to do anything about it, the numbers behind them were growing. When Spike reached the car, Sam already had the engine running and Dean was standing outside the car on the passenger side, shooting at the vampires behind him. The instant Spike was inside the car, Dean followed, and the car lurched forward.

 

* * *

The Winchester brothers seemed to have some sort of radar or sixth sense for finding abandoned houses, not that Spike was about to complain. Two nights ago, they’d found a shack and crashed there, then yesterday, they’d found this two bedroom place with a nice porch and even some beer. Right, they’d already made two more runs since then for beer and whiskey, and decided to stay a few days. 

As Spike headed back out to the porch, he caught a glimpse of Sam arranging some candles near the fire place. “You worry too much, yeah?” he called out over his shoulder, realizing Sam was using a spell to cover their tracks from the vampires. “And you... you don’t worry enough,” he drawled, seeing how relaxed Dean looked, kicking back on the settee with his legs out on the rattan coffee table, and a beer in hand. Now that they’d all recharged, it was getting a lot harder to keep his hands off the hunter. 

Inside the house, Sam pulled out the angel root and other herbs to place in the fire place. The candles were for Spike, to ease his senses when he walked in the house. The rest were for the other vampires. Sam just shot Spike a look through the open door, but it wasn't one of annoyance like he used to give him. It was more of an acknowledgment that he’d heard. And of course Sam was the over cautious one. They had demons after them. Spike was lucky they didn't have the mattresses over the windows yet.

Dean on the other hand tipped his head lazily to Spike and smirked, "Oh I worry, I just hide it better." He lied of course.

"Yeah... all those little worry lines running across your face..." Sitting on the porch railing across from him, Spike gave him a heated stare. Maybe he could get a few minutes alone later, when Sam fell asleep... or they could take off for another beer run. He looked back through the door at Sam.

Dean pushed up, stepping over to Spike, he leaned in close to him, leaving no doubt of his intentions. "These are not worry lines, these are smile lines. Take a closer look." 

Fuck... so close, so close Spike’s body was already reacting. “Haven’t learned anything yet about teasing a vampire, have you?” His shot again toward Sam, who had his back to them, but would probably finish up and come out soon. 

Dean tipped his head, giving a slow lick up Spike's neck to his ear and then nipped at it. "Am I getting better?"

Growling, Spike moved his head around, managing to brush the corner of Dean’s mouth with his. He was gripping the railing so tight, his knuckles whitened. “Too good, yeah. Meet me somewhere... make an excuse. Or... step the bloody hell back.”

Dean stayed close, reaching around Spike to set his beer down, and staying in that position. "I'm not making an excuse." Dean pressed in hard to show Spike how hard his own cock was.

Didn’t happen too often, but Spike was robbed of his thoughts. “What, then?” He swallowed, aching to hold Dean... to put his arm around him and kiss him just once. “You want me to order you... to make him think you’re still obligated... there’ll be another fight.” With his hormones now raging, he was bloody close to not caring about either beating little brother up or letting him do his best... so long as there was sex at the end of it. “God... this is payback, isn’t it?”

"Sort of, but Sam knows the truth. He knew back in the Haven. So ..." Dean surged in and kissed Spike hard, long, demanding and at the end, needing that much more. He pulled back breathing hard, "We can go to one of the rooms, finish this up there ... Or we could, just ... not do anything at all." Dean pulled away turning to his beer, taking a drink and went to sit back down. 

“He knows... knew... all this time, and I’ve been...” It took a few minutes for the vampire to process all that. “You told Sam... the truth.” Pushing off from the rail, he sauntered over and sat down next to Dean, putting his arm around him. “C’mere...” Knocking the beer out of his way, Spike lowered his mouth firmly over Dean’s. He’d been dying to do this since last night.

One kiss lead to another. Spike forced Dean all the way back and was half sprawled over him as he stabbed his tongue in and out of the hunter’s mouth, running his hands possessively over his chest and wanting so bad to tear those already tattered jeans off him.

That was when he heard the ‘ahemming.’ The clearing of the younger Winchester’s throat. They had company...

Dean didn’t stop kissing Spike even as Sam emerged and was clearing his throat. He merely held up a hand to tell his brother to wait while he finished kissing Spike before pulling away, heavy in breath and looked at his brother. "Dude. What? Jealous? Dinner ready? What?"

"You know you two could take that inside. We really shouldn't be outside for a while." Sam motioned toward the door with a swing of his arm to try and herd the two inside. 

Dean glanced over to Spike, "He has a point. We can take this inside." He gave a smile.

“You’re being a worry wort,” Spike got up, pulling his shirt down and smirking at the slight flush staining Sam’s cheeks. “So you want us inside, both of us? Are we having manwich for dinner?”

"What?" Sam asked then realized what he was talking about. "What?! No! No." He backed up. "It was just ..."

Dean sat up, pulling his own shirt down. "Let's go inside, more comfortable anyway." Grabbing his beer, he headed inside, smacking his brother’s ass when he passed.

Before Sam had time to utter his protest, Spike came up behind him, and bodily shoved him up against Dean. He reached out and held Dean’s sides, pressing forward and in the process, sandwiching Sam up tight between them. “What… never played ‘train’ as a kid?” 

"Hey!?" Sam was suddenly up against his brother, and trapped by Spike. "Yes, I mean no." He stuttered.

"Leave Sammy alone," Dean spoke but not harshly. He walked into the house, a bit disturbed at the feel of his brother against him and how much he ... hadn’t hated it.

“Sammy… alone. Done.” Stepping around the taller brother and searching his face for a split second, he took another step and slipped two fingers down the front of Dean’s jeans, catching him by the waist band and walking backwards as he dragged him into one of the bedrooms. “This won’t take long…”

Sam cleared his throat, "Yeah." He was blushing a bit.

Dean walked with Spike, a slight smirk on his lips and his eyes filled with lust. He gave a shrug, "Could be longer." He was reaching out to undo Spike's pants as they entered the room and his foot kicked the door closed.

Sam realized he was holding his breath and let it out.

“Best he get used to it fast… dive in the deep end.” As their bodies collided and a jolt of heat ran through his system, Spike couldn’t have been more pleased that Dean had come clean and decided to stop hiding this… this chemistry between them. Closing his hands over the hunter’s tight ass, he pulling him up hard against his body and buried his face in his throat. 

Dean's head hit the door, not realizing the latch clicked as he did. It slipped into the open position and he started pushing Spike back toward the bed. "He's used to me having sex." Though not with a man. He reached for Spike's shirt, pulling it up over his head. He tossed the shirt away as his hand quickly came back to explore that well defined chest.

“Is he, now?” Now there was a taunt that deserved a bit of punishment. He made short work of dean’s belt, and pulled his zipper down, biting his lower lip as the guy returned the favor, brushing his already aching cock over his pants. “Fuck.” 

Spike sat down on the bed and gripped Dean’s hips, eyes locking with his boy’s greens. “Straddle me,” he demanded. “Come on, pretty boy.”

Dean smirked, "Demanding shit." He pulled his jeans and shirt off then moved, placing his hands on Spike's shoulders and straddling him. So tempting to just push him back. But instead, he leaned down and grasped Spike's chin, pushing it back so he could lick him.  
Spike groaned lightly and let Dean have his way with him for a while. He could feel the hunter’s powerful thighs start to tighten around him as his knees dug into Spike’s sides. They both needed more pressure, but Spike wasn’t letting him get any closer… was physically preventing anything but the lightest of brushes of their groins. Instead, he put his tongue out and engaged Dean’s outside their mouths, fighting the heat that flooded his system and demanded more.

Dean circled his tongue around Spike’s then pulled back. He looked the vampire over with a heated gaze. "You are teasing me." He growled. "Stop teasing." He tried to push him down on the bed.

“Hurts me more than it hurts you,” was the husky response the hunter got, though Spike didn’t relent. Leaning forward, he skimmed his open mouth across Dean’s chest, pressing his tongue against taut, slightly salty skin. “Want to fuck me, do you? Like all those other times you got Sam used to you having sex with women…” 

Dean growled then suddenly pushing with all his strength because he was hungry for him. "I want. Need, damnit."

Spike let him slide up his body until their cocks rubbed. “Give me your tongue. And don’t move. Mean that, yeah… don’t move.” He read confusion in Dean’s eyes, but let him figure it out for himself. Surging forward, he sucked on Dean’s tongue, lifting his hips in the same rhythm, but holding Dean so that the hunter couldn’t buck…

Dean's fingers gripped at Spike's shoulders. He was breathing heavy, his heart pounding. He groaned deeply, "God, what you are doing to me."

“Doing all the work, is all. Give me your mouth again.” As he fucked and kissed Dean, he felt the boys fingers dig into him… heard and felt his curses, knew how hard Dean had to be struggling to keep his hips from thrusting. Just the knowledge of what Dean had to be going through… how he was restraining himself… what each flexing of his thighs meant… was driving Spike closer and closer to the edge. When he’d worked himself up until there was no more room for thought, he grunted, “go for it… anything you want.”

Dean shoved Spike back, sinking his teeth into Spike's neck, trying to leave a mark. He growled then scrambled off him, He grabbed Spike’s pants and started pullin’ them off. He wanted at the man. Needed at him. And once he had those damned pants off, he was at him, smelling him, kissing his legs, his hips, rubbing his cheek against that cock before working up slowly over Spike's chest.

Pushing his head back into the pillow, Spike gritted his teeth. It was his turn to take it… even when he just wanted to fuck. At least pretty boy didn’t make him wait long, and was already crawling up his body. Skin to skin… he was burning up. “Dean…” He clawed at the hunter’s back, stroking, moving his hands down and kneading his ass as he raised his own hips. “Unh… harder,” he urged Dean on.

Dean reached a nipple and flicked his tongue over it before he bit it, hard. Wanting to hear Spike cry out. He did the same to the other side before he placed his hand on Spike's neck and leaned down to kiss him hard. "Gonna fuck you hard. We’ll both feel it for days."

The pleasure and pain set Spike off. Cursing, he hooked his legs around Dean, locking them at the ankles at the base of Dean’s back and dragging the hunter him up his body. “Stop threatening… start fucking,” he growled, hissing when Dean’s teeth sank into him again. “Sodding hell… ride me.”

Dean gave a chuckle then kissed Spike again, hard and long. Lifting himself so he could align Spike’s cock with his opening, he started to sink down upon him, groaning with pain as he did. "Shiiit." The curse flew from him.

Spike cursed at same time at the sudden flash of blinding heat when he found himself sheathed tightly inside Dean. Dammit… how did the hunter manage to keep surprising him? “You alright?” he croaked, fighting the need to ram into him, forcing himself to allow time for Dean to adjust.

Dean couldn't help letting out a sound. He gave a nod as he kept sinking and feeling the vampire fill him.

From outside, Sam heard Dean and thought he was in pain. He got up and went to the door which already had a crack in it. But then when he looked in, he saw his brother and instantly turned red.

 

As Spike fucked the hunter on top of him, he grew vaguely aware of the sensation of being watched. Without ever looking at the door, he stopped Dean… who looked like he was ready to kill him… until Spike showed him he wanted him to turn around. Once the hunter was sitting on Spike with his back to the vampire, Spike started to thrust. Each time he snapped his hips up, he gripped Dean’s thighs, pulling him closer… pushing him… making him ride his cock… and all the while, he imagine what Sam was seeing… Dean’s face … his teeth biting into his lip…. His struggle for breath. Were his eyes open? Did Sam see how far gone Dean could get? Fuck…

Dean stared at his brother, showing him his lust. His need. His desire. The deep pleasure Spike was giving him. He closed his eyes for a moment, swearing before he released with a hoarse cry and felt himself shatter.

Sam saw it all. He saw how Dean needed Spike and saw ... he saw ... He backed up, closing the door. God Dean looked devastating when he released.

Closing his arms around Dean’s chest, Spike rolled him to his side and kept pumping, slowing as he finished coming inside the hunter. Kissing the side of his neck, he reveled in how hard Dean’s heart was working, and how he was rasping… fighting for each breath. “Liked our new game, did you?” he asked, stroking his hair. “Next time… need a mirror in the room, yeah?” 

_But Sam’s face had done just as well as any mirror… just as bloody well._


	9. Chapter 9

Another week passed and Spike was still with the brothers Winchester. He’d been cautious about bringing up anything that hinted at underlying emotions, and it seemed to be working because Dean hadn’t had a melt down, or turned to ice. Still, it left a lot unsaid. Spike knew the time would come when he’d have to shove off. But not today. 

Paintings with people that came alive. Bloody ghosts you couldn’t choke with your bare hands. Things that whispered in people’s head and drove them crazy. The boys seemed to attract the weirdest, most frustrating cases... and Spike loved every minute of it. It was like going back fifteen years and working cases with the Scoobs, only he could say “ _fuck_ ” to his heart’s content... and there was beer during research. 

The brothers knew what they were doing. Most of the time. The rest of the time, it was Dean acting as if he knew what he was doing. The bastard did have lady luck sitting on his shoulders though, had to admit that much. 

Sometimes Spike watched their interaction, and felt a deep loneliness. They could read each others’ minds, end each others’ sentence. They were _family_. They had something he could never touch. Then there were other times when it made him smile like a bleeding sap... especially when he could guess what one brother or the others’ response would be. Sometimes he vocalized it and when he got it right, both would look at him. Right... who said they weren’t predictable? And as he’d known, they hated to be told they were. Just like that, Spike had a new game. 

One thing surprised Spike. A part of him had been extremely jealous of Dean’s love for his brother. It wasn’t that exactly, maybe it was the lengths he’d go for his brother. But now he saw it went both ways, they’d each put their lives down for the other. One of them had already. But the thing that surprised him was his own rage and fear when Sam had been in the clutches of one of the Winchester _demon special of the day_. He’d felt very foolish when Sam told him he hadn’t needed help. Least Dean had rushed over too and gotten the same lecture. It ended right though, with him fucking Dean behind a tree... that was one way of getting a bang out of the emotional charge from the fighting. Sam on the other hand was bored and trying to get used to taking naps in the car while his brother went at it with the vampire. 

The three of them fought together, ate together, usually slept in one room places or sometimes managed to find motels with adjoining rooms. One thing they didn’t do together was clean up. Spike was constantly picking up their gear and putting it away, tossing their beer bottles and pizza boxes, well, mostly Dean’s. Sam seemed to be able to pick up after himself. Spike’s questioning their mother’s failure to teach Dean to pick up after himself hadn’t gone over real well with either brother, and now he knew another hot button in this family. 

Now they’d survived yet another case and were letting off steam at a bar in the middle of nowhereville. Or Spike and Dean were, at least. Sam had his lap top out and was using the free internet access at one of the tables. 

Shaking his head, the vampire leaned closer to the woman at the bar and whispered in her ear. As he did that, his gaze met Dean’s, who was working the room across the ways and had his arm around a cocktail waitress. Damn that smile of his... 

Dean’s genuinely happy grin turned sexy and hot when he met Spike's eyes. He turned his head to the woman beside him, whispered in her ear. After a bit of giggling, she was handing him a napkin. Gladly putting it in his pocket and whispering some last words that made her smile brightly, he wondered over to his brother’s table.

"You will really get a lot of women with a laptop, geek boy," Dean pulled up a chair beside his brother.

 

"Someone had to do research. You would be distracted with porn and Spike, I don't think he has opened a book in over a hundred years," Sam poked at the keys then sat back taking a sip of his beer.

 

"I'm sure he has opened a book," Dean defended.

 

"Okay other than porn and other than someone's dairy," Sam crossed his arms.

 

Dean opened his mouth, closed it again then gave his usual helpless shrug.

 

"Dean," Sam paused then leaned forward, "This is more than just ..."

 

"Me humping him every chance I get?" Dean gave a shrug. Leave it to Sam to put a chick flick moment in a bar.

 

Sam just looked at him.

 

Dean shifted, always uncomfortable about talking about his emotions and feelings. "So, what do you got?"

 

"Not porn and you are avoiding my question." Sam leaned forward. "Dean, I'm not gonna make fun of you. I'm just wondering. I worry what is gonna happen to you when he leaves."

 

Dean made a face, "I'll do like I always do."

 

Sam frowned at his brother. He knew what that meant. One of two things would happen. Dean would throw himself at every available woman trying or he would close up and throw himself at every available danger in his path. He feared the latter was more likely to be the case.

 

From a distance, Spike was all sorts of distracted by the expressions crossing Dean's face. Just when he thought he'd seen every combination of eyebrow raising, head tilting and mouth twisting, every funny or sexy face there was... he seemed to come up with a new one. Since he was at the bar, he raised a beer bottle to see if they needed refills, now that he was done with the girl sitting next to him.

 

Dean saw movement at the bar and Spike caught his eyes. For now, Spike was here and as much as Dean tried so very hard not to get attached, he knew he was. He had his heart broken once, by Cassie, _he wasn't gonna think about his father,_ was it gonna be a matter of time before   
Spike did it to him? More than likely. Quenching the urge to test, now that was hard. He nodded and held up two fingers in reply and looked back to Sam. "Don't worry, I'll be okay. I'm not some love sick puppy like you can be. I'm not gonna listen to mopey music and stare out windows."

 

A few moments later, Spike strode toward the brothers, triumph lighting his eyes. "Not talking about me, are you?" he asked, setting the bottles down.

 

"As a matter of fact, we were," Dean smirked and seemed to lighten up when the Vampire was in their presence. "Were your ears burning or did your dick start to ache."

 

"Please, I don't need the visual," Sam groaned.

 

"Oh, c'mon, Sammy, you like the visuals."

 

"No, I don't."

 

"That’s because you are jealous," Dean smirked at his brother.

“Come on ladies, can't tell a bloke you're talking about his dick then clam up." Spike sat down and looked at them. 

"We weren't talking about your dick. You’re worse than Dean." Sam rolled his eyes. 

"Hey, Spike, how many you get?" Dean lounged in his chair before sitting up and leaning on the table. "Huh?" 

“You show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” he drawled, lifting his bottle to his lips. 

"You better be talking about phone numbers," Sam muttered. 

"Dude, we are crude but not that crude," Dean countered before reaching into his pockets and producing three napkins. 

Three. Spike smiled, and produced an equal number of napkins. “Catherine there counts for two... just look at her.” His gaze shifted to Sam, as if to ask where his napkins were. “Maybe if you detached yourself from the laptop...” 

"I'm so not playing your games," Sam informed him. 

"Oh, here we go," Dean pulled out his last from his waist band, "Forgot she put it there. This is Tuesday and she counts as ten," Dean smirked, "And eleven. And she can do this thing with her tongue ..." 

"SHUT UP!" Sam rolled his eyes and sighed. "God, you two are like ... like ..." 

"Gods?" Dean asked. 

“Sex Gods?” Spike added fuel to the fire. “Come on, loosen up. I’ve got just the thing for it. See that girl,” he pointed his beer bottle at a dark haired sexy package at the bar who was looking at them. “She wants you. I know this because... I asked.” He glanced over at Dean, “getting a date for your brother should count for another point for me, yeah?” 

Dean looked over and quirked an eyebrow. Girl was a looker. Nice long legs, "She might be out of his league." 

"She is not and I can get my own women, thank you," Sam spoke to them both. 

"Oh and getting dates for my brother actually docks you one." Dean informed Spike. 

“Well now that doesn’t seem very sporting of you. I’ll be asking for a recount later. Way later...” He smirked, “I think I may be able to get you to concede this one... have my ways.” Already he was scheming about new ways to bring Dean close to the edge... Under the table, he pressed his thigh against Dean’s. 

Dean turned his head to Spike and placed his hand on Spike's leg. "You think so. Confident huh?" He gave it a squeeze. "I'd like to have my way." 

"God, get a room," Sam sank in his chair. 

Clamping his hand over Dean’s, Spike pushed it up higher on his thigh. “Maybe.” There would have been some hot and heavy kissing if they weren’t in the sort of bar where that would earn them an ass kicking. Make that it an attempted ass kicking. 

Dean slipped his hand higher, dared a squeeze, "We should get a room, do it on Sam's bed so we don't mess up ours." 

"No," Sam kicked them both under the table with his long legs. "You two are worse than cats in heat. Or dogs for that matter." 

“Comes from hanging with vampires... it’s catching, Sammy. Next thing you know...” Spike reached out and chucked him in the cheek and wasn’t surprised to get his hand knocked back. “Nothing wrong with loosening up. Line of work you’re in, eventually...” He was only half joking. It had happened to Dean, to the other hunters who frequented the no-name club, needing something people with vanilla lives would never understand. 

"Eventually you have to cut loose and do something stupid?" Sam asked, "Like make deals." He was looking at Dean. 

"If it calls for, yes," Dean answered. He seemed to sober up. His deal. Not just for his life. He made a deal with Spike. He looked to the Vampire. "We have one by the way.” 

“Do we? I don’t remember agreeing you get your way tonight. Said maybe.” It was only after the words left his mouth that he realized Dean was being serious. Deals. Was this the end of the road then? Dean had done everything ... well almost everything... that Spike wanted when they were out getting his brother back, not that Spike made a lot of demands. He set his bottle down and waited. The brothers didn’t need him anymore. 

"Look, Spike, tell him, you aren't gonna hold him to it. Things have changed, right?" Sam was starting to worry. 

"Deal is a deal, Sam," Dean glanced to his brother then back to Spike. If Spike only knew, this was an out for Dean. Dead was dead. No hell hounds to drag him to hell. And he could still help his brother. 

Spike blinked. It was the only indication of the shard of pain in his gut. He wasn’t the one who’d crafted _that_ deal, that had been Dean, pure and simple... saying whatever he thought it would take to get Spike to help get him into Dark Haven. “Deal’s off. You’re free to... _die_.” Right, might have been a better way to put it. 

"No!" Dean shot up. "We had a deal." Dean felt his heart tighten. It was a way to stay together, all of them. "C'mon, let's do it." 

“You want this?” Spike struggled to get his mind around it. Claiming Dean.... siring him... just the thought set him on fire with need, but knowing how Dean felt about vampires, did he really want to be one? Could he want it? His gaze shifted to Sam’s. “What about you? Do you want this? For him.” 

Sam looked at his brother, "No." 

Dean looked down between them, "This is between you and me, Spike. So let's go." He started heading out of the bar. 

Spike looked at Sam, and nodded for him to go after his brother. Pulling a smoke out, he leaned back. Despite his cool façade, his hand slightly shook as he lit up. 

Sam quickly closed his laptop and was out of his chair, knocking it back as he did, "Dean!" He followed. "You can't be serious." 

"I am," Dean simply answered as he reached the car. 

"No, I won't let you." Sam shook his head. 

"You don't have a choice," Dean answered him. 

"Why? Why are you doing this?" Sam placed his laptop in the car. 

"It was a deal." Dean stared at his brother across the car, not wanting to reveal the true reasons. 

However Sam saw it in his eyes. Heard it in his tone. "It's your other deal. Isn't it. You die, like this, they can't take you. But this way you get to live as well." 

Dean just stared at his brother. 

"Dean, why do you keep..." Sam looked away from his brother. No matter what, he didn't want to lose his brother. He lifted his eyes back up, "I'm supposed to take care of you this time. Find you a way out. Dean." He walked around to him. "Is this really what you want?" 

"Yeah, it is," Dean answered, not saying it was also because he also wanted to be with Spike. To be happy for once. Even if dead. To be with his brother and Spike as well. It was fucked up reasoning. Went against everything his father ever, ever taught him but, since when did his father truly care? Especially for Dean?

"I'll go get him then." Sam pulled away, going into the bar, searching for Spike. 

Seeing Sam walk in, Spike pushed up and met him, his gaze not shying away from Sam’s. Little brother didn’t look happy. Spike cocked his head to the side. 

"We should do this," Sam answered, looking sad, scared and hurt. "It's what he wants." He swallowed hard.

Spike gave a nod and took a step, but stopped, standing close to Sam and putting a hand on his arm. “Nothing gets between you and him. Not me. Not this.” Strange how you could both hate and love a truth like that. “It’ll be hard at first, he’ll be different. But I’ll get him back, the Dean you know.” 

Sam looked directly into Spike's eyes, "Like when I died? Did Dean really get me back. The Sam he knows?" He turned and walked out, leaving Spike to think on it. 

In silence, and deep in thought, Spike followed, and slid into the back seat of the Impala. The minute he closed the door, Dean revved the engine and they took off. The vampire could never have imagined how torn he’d be about this. 

* * *  
Sitting on the porch, Sam felt tears pricking at his eyes. He knew why Dean was doing this. He knew the reasons behind it but it still hurt. He was gonna lose his brother as he knew ... to become ... He took a long drink. 

* 

They’d left a six pack of beer and Dean’s flask of something more potent, and closed the door to the porch. Then it was just him and Dean, staring at each other. 

“You sure about this, _hunter_? There’s no going back from this,” Spike said, deliberately reminding Dean of his life long place in the world as a hunter of the creatures of the night, including vampires. 

Dean looked at Spike as he took off his jacket and removed his gun. "Yes, I'm sure. And you don't have to remind me who or what I am, like it's gonna make a difference." He moved up to Spike, "You really don't know the reasons." 

“I know...” A muscle pulsed in Spike’s jaw. “I know I want this for you so you won’t die at that demon’s hand. I know, I don’t want to lose you... don’t want Sam to lose you. And I know the thought of claiming you, of _making_ you, sends me into a bloody tailspin, the sort you’d never understand,” his voice grew husky with desire, as he struggled to keep his hands off Dean. “And I know I feel like a selfish bastard.” 

"It's not selfishness, not the way I see it," Dean tried to explain it. "But, there is another reason," Dean ran his hand over Spike's chest. "Other reasons." Reasons that Dean found hard to voice when the vampire was awake, aware and able to hear. 

“Jonesing for fangs bigger than mine?” Spike bit his lower lip as Dean’s hand moved over him and sent his blood rushing straight to his groin. He wanted to brand him so badly, it took everything he had to keep from dragging him close. Eyes burning with the intensity of his need, Spike’s gaze locked with Dean’s. “Need.” 

Dean leaned in, kissing the Vampire. "Admit it, I would look fucking killer as a vampire." He moved around behind Spike, carefully reaching around to undo the buttons of his shirt. At least from here, he could speak and not see Spike's face. "I need you too." He whispered. "Need you a lot." It was a start to admission. 

“I Know that.” Spike leaned back, feeling the press of Dean’s hard chest against his back, his groin pulsing against him. Warm fingertips touched his bare skin, sending heat fanning throughout his system. “Enough to want this... to turn?” It was a heroic effort, giving Dean one last chance to change his mind. 

Dean was working on Spike's belt, "Yes." He ran his mouth along Spike's neck. "Spike, I want to be with you." He pulled the shirt off and it fell to the floor. 

Every word, every touch fed Spike’s hunger. Turning slightly, he spoke inches from Dean’s mouth. “Do this... and you will be... Always. Lover. Son. Mine.” The compulsion to take Dean was growing stronger, taking over every fiber of his body. 

Dean kissed Spike, letting his tongue delve into Spike's mouth and fuck him. He then pulled back, "I was already yours." 

There was only so much Spike could take. Twisting around, he roughly pulled Dean into his arms. “In bed... yes. Now... body, heart, soul, life... mine,” he ground out, taking possession of Dean’s mouth with his, claiming it with his tongue, with every heated kiss, imprinting himself on the hunter’s soul. 

With Dean’s heart beating like a drum in his ears, the predator in Spike started to break free. Shoving his hands between their bodies, he gripped Dean’s shirt and pulled it apart... tearing it, ignoring the sound of scattered buttons hitting the ground. Growling at the slight sound of protest from Dean, he pulled him close again, this time by his waistband. 

Dean was more careful unlike Spike, cause he knew they couldn't afford clothing so easily. So Dean gingerly got Spike's pants open and shoving his hand down it, stroking his cock. "Let's go slow, take our time." Though he had a feeling it was a senseless request since his mouth was just as eagerly working against Spike's. He started backing to the bed as he was opening his own pants. "So tell me, what is it gonna be like?" He asked, "You know, you and me together." 

“Sodding hell, you want to talk. Now?” Pushing Dean down on the bed, Spike watched as Dean continued to fiddle with his bloody zipper. Putting one knee down between Dean’s legs, he lowered himself down over the hunter, jeans be damned. Dragging his pant clad cock up Dean’s leg, he lodged himself up against his cock. “Family... that’s how it’ll be. Family.” The last time Spike had one, it had been a foursome. The scoobs had come close, but weren’t quite what he yearned for... needed. 

Dean hissed a groan through his clenched teeth. He rocked his hips up, his need and desire only raging more intensely with each scrape, each draw of Spike's cock up his still covered leg. "Family, good," Dean needed family just as much as Spike did. "Oh God, is this gonna get hotter?" He groaned. Finally that zipper was down and Dean was eagerly pushing down his pants. 

“Remember that first time?” Spike dragged Dean’s jeans off together with his boxers, and pressed his palm against Dean’s inner thigh... where he’d bitten him that first time. “Hotter than that.” He intended to make Dean burn so hot, he’d never feel the pain when his fangs sank into his throat. Lowering his mouth, he scraped his teeth over Dean’s chest, following with soft wet kisses, moving lower and lower. He was gripping Dean’s thighs, reveling as the boy flexed under his palms. 

Dean squirmed and panted. His chest rising and falling quickly, his heart hammering against his chest. He groaned then looked down as Spike ran his teeth over his skin, feeling red trails burn over him. It only added fuel to the fire that was raging inside him. This time it was very possible the pair would set the damned room on fire with the intensity of heat between them.

Spike crawled down Dean’s body and kissed and stoked his legs, teasing him until he had Dean thrashing under him. Finally, he closed his mouth over his thick cock, taking all of it. Sucking hard, he pulled off his cock, squeezing it with his hands as he watched his hunter’s face. “I want to be inside you... so deep... I want to crawl inside your skin, and you’ll never get me out again, never be free,” he said, letting him see the hunger in his eyes. The need. 

Dean had been swearing up a storm, his hips rocking and his cock throbbing. He felt cold whenever Spike pulled off and then so hot he swore he was gonna catch fire when he was on him. Already sweat beaded his chest. His eyes reflected his own need and desire, "You’re already under my skin." Another admission. 

“Am I?” He wanted it, wanted it to be true beyond anything else he’d wanted. Lifting up onto his knees he turned Dean slightly onto his side, exposing his ass to his view. He used his mouth, and his hands, skimming every inch of Dean’s bare skin, stroking, nipping, licking... kissing him... touching him, exploring... branding his abs, his thighs, the sensitive area between his ass cheeks, the skin behind his sack. Slow and gentle quickly turned into needy and wild movements as Spike worked Dean senseless in a new game of possession and branding. 

Spike’s own need was building in intensity, his cock pulsing and straining against his loosened pants. He’d kept them on because once they were gone, all bets would be off, and he might not be able to make good on his promise to work Dean into a mindless state where he would never feel his teeth breaking skin. 

"Yeeees," came Dean's answer as he was rolled to his side. His flesh was on fire, radiating heat the vampire didn't have. His heart pounded in his ears and his chest threatened to burst if something didn't happen. But the playing and teasing went on and on. Dean had to lick his lips to keep them moist as his breath quickly left and entered him. At times he would gasp, seem to hold his breath before a deep groan left him and his body would tremble.  
Dean reached out, trying to pull the vampire to him, wanting those firm lips against his own to nibble and suck on. He wanted to work Spike up as well, but it was clear, as always it seemed, the vampire was in control and Dean allowed it. It had been that way from the start … until their desires and needs got so great that it would flash up and they’d let loose and burn each other up until their lust was spent. This time was no different and all thoughts left Dean, including thoughts of being turned. All he knew, all he felt was the and power of being needed and his uncontrolled desire. 

Dean was finally able to roll on his back and move, "Need you naked." It wasn't a request.

A victim of his own body’s needs, Spike was in no position to argue. He got off the bed, pulled his pants off and stared for a long moment at Dean’s flushed body, his cock swollen with need… and those eyes that both plead and demanded action. He’d get what he asked for. 

Spike returned to the bed, and moved his hands possessively over Dean’s hips, dragging him closer, and raising Dean’s legs up over his shoulders. Despite the hunter’s demands to hurry, he prepared him for his invasion and aligned his aching cock up against Dean’s entrance. 

Dean was more than ready, long ready, but when Spike pressed his thick cock into him, Dean had to bite back a cry. It burned, but it was a good burn that sent blinding heat up his spine and burned bright behind his eyes. 

He reached up for Spike, running his hand over his chest while his other hand was over his head, bracing himself to keep from moving up on the bed and banging his head on the headboard. The bonus was that it allowed him leverage to push back which caused curses to fly from his lips. 

The curses and sounds breaking from Dean’s lips sharpened Spike’s lust. He pulled out and rammed his thick and heavy erection back into Dean, aiming to pleasure, aiming to possess, to brand… to make the hunter his in every way possible. He fucked and fucked until he was on the very edge of oblivion, and then his eyes focused on the column of Dean’s throat where his pulse was jumping… waiting… waiting for him. 

Releasing one of Dean’s legs, he leaned forward, still fucking him as he found his mouth with his, and kissed him near senseless. The rush of Dean’s blood, the feel of that pulse under his hand as he caressed his throat, was sheer torture for the vampire. 

Dean was lost in pleasure. His heart pounded hard and his breath was labored. His body ached with each thrust but it was always worth it. Just to have someone who cared enough for him like this. To make him feel needed when even his own father couldn't do that. To be so focused on him and not his brother for a change. It was all Dean wanted. Needed. Desired. 

He was so lost in the sensations, he didn’t notice Spike’s attention shifting to his throat. All he felt were lips which he wanted to kiss, to feel all over him. Spike's name escaped his lips. 

As Dean cried out for him, Spike licked Dean’s throbbing pulse, then sank his teeth into the soft flesh of his throat. The demon in him roared with power, with need, with the knowledge that Dean would be his for all time, that he would never again be alone. Warm, sweet blood spilled into his mouth as he fucked and distracted until blood lust and compulsion kicked in, dragging Dean into the vampire’s world of red hot lust. 

Spike rode the waves of cresting pleasure, the roar of Dean’s blood, his heart beats, strong in his ears. He saw the truth of Dean’s existence now… in flashes… the heartaches and triumphs of his childhood, the weight of his responsibility. The girlfriends that could never be. The pain of separation. He tried to comfort… tried to use the blood link to reassure him that things would be different now. 

There was the pain of losing his father, and the greater pain of learning his father had given up his life and left Dean to be the one who had to kill his brother. Spike gripped Dean closer as flashes showed him a bastard father who gave Dean’s little brother all his love and attention while he pushed Dean hard, placed too much responsibility on him and made him feel like he was nothing more than a tool. There were 'Yes, sirs,' so many of them as the young hunter tried to earn his father’s love, only to be rewarded by never once being called son. 

_Won’t be like that, not between us,_ Spike promised, dragging more blood into his mouth, licking and fucking the wound, making sure that Dean felt pleasure not pain, listening to his breath hitch and feeling Dean’s body shudder under him as he climaxed , exploding in silent release. _I’ll be father, and lover to you, I’ll…_

As Dean’s heart slowed to the point nearing death, Spike heard and saw things that made his blood grow cold. Dean telling his father he’d found love in one place he least expected. Then his father’s voice took over, deep and strong, "Boy, don't do this. You will become what I trained you to hate. I need you to protect your brother. This is not right and you HAVE to give up your happiness for others. There is no question about it. Do this boy and it's your own selfishness showing through. We don't get to be happy, Dean." 

_Yes, sir._

That was the only correct answer to his father’s demands, and it didn’t take a genius to know it. Spike struggled… battled… forced himself to lift his mouth away. So close, so close to taking him, to making Dean his… but he wasn’t his. The man who had now blacked out against the pillows would always belong to his father, to his brother… would always doubt what he’d done was right. If he turned vampire, he would lose himself all over again. 

A pain ripped through Spike’s very soul. He kissed his unconscious lover, hard. “I won’t do this to you, I’m not like _him_. I love you too much for that.” 

Pulling away abruptly, he dressed. The smell of sex and blood surrounded him, reminded him of what he was giving up, of what he was losing. Steeling himself, he walked out, stopping on the porch when Sam shot up from his place as if he was electrocuted. 

“Get your brother some orange juice,” he said, a muscle pulsing in his jaw. “Take care of him, yeah? 

Seeing the look on the Vampire's face, Sam froze. It was so much a reflection of Dean's. What he saw in his brother's green eyes was echoed in Spike's. Sam swallowed the lump in his throat. The tears that glistened in Spike’s eyes and the break in his voice that was ever so slight told Sam, the vampire did not turn his brother. 

Sam looked at the door then back to Spike. He reached out, placing his hand on Spike's arm giving it a squeeze, "We're still together. We're still ... family. We'll find a way to save Dean, I promise." Sam hadn't realized how much Spike cared for his brother, especially not to do this. He pulled away and started to walk in but stopped, "Why? Why didn't you ...?" 

Spike didn’t turn to look at him. He didn’t want to answer, but it was Sam. He bit his lip, then forced the words out. “His father. His _real one_ is still in his head. Dean’s got enough guilt to spare. I won’t be the one adding to it.” He took a step toward the stairs. “I can’t stay. After tonight… I can’t promise I wouldn’t be tempted. I… tell him I… Don’t tell him anything.” 

With that, he walked away from everything he’d found. Like Dean’s father had said, happiness wasn’t for everyone.


	10. Chapter 10

Days passed since Spike left. Sam had taken care of Dean for the first day before his brother recovered enough strength to push him away and close up. And as each day passed, Dean closed up even more. Every time Sam tried to talk to Dean about that night, mention Spike's name, his brother changed the subject. Avoidance was the Winchester way. At least for Dean and his father. Avoid the pain and it won't get to you. Avoid the hurt and it never really happened.

A week later, the brothers were alone in some dingy motel. Dean was cleaning his gun, finding comfort in the clicking of the metal and the smell of gun oil. The job they had taken on was with Bobby, who’ noticed something was up with Dean. Bobby tried to figure out what was going on with Dean, especially after Dean nearly got his head taken off by another baddie of the month. But Dean refused to talk, snapping at both Bobby and Sam to leave him alone, that he was fine. But both men saw, Dean was far from fine. 

Dean seemed more concerned over the reason he hadn't got his head taken off. Some unknown force had pushed him through the air to safety. Bobby and Dean suspected Sam who shook his head innocently and claimed it wasn't him. If it had been him, wouldn't his head have hurt?   
That was the question of the century.   
After Bobby left, Sam, sat across the room, just watching his brother. Dean looked as if he was already dead. Inside. "Dean," Sam spoke softly but his brother wasn't responding. "He did it because he cared. He didn't want you to hate him later."

Dean just kept looking down, cleaning his gun, not responding.

"He said you had enough guilt. He didn't want to add to it," Sam tried again.

Dean just rocked a bit as he clicked a gun together.

"Dean," Sam tried yet again.

"Just shut up about it, Sam. I don't want to hear it. I don't want to talk about it. I'm fine. He got what he wanted. He left. It's over. Done." Dean was now looking down a barrel to see if it was clean.

"It's not fine. Dean, you haven't been fine since that day. You are ..."

"What did I just say?" Dean snapped. "Look, he left! He fucked me. Bit me. Took my blood and left. I'm not gonna cry over it. I'm not gonna dwell on it. I'm not gonna stare out the window and listen to moopy music." Dean looked back down, going back to cleaning.

"But you miss him." Sam put it simply.

Dean didn't look up.

"You love him," Sam pushed.

Dean finally glared at his brother.

 

* * *

Another moonless night. Was it a wonder it reminded him of the Winchesters? _Of him_. He wondered what sort of trouble his hunter was finding tonight. It was always something… fanged, clawed, bodiless… 

Spike took a long drag on his cigarette, causing the red tip to burn a fiery red in the dark. Red hot, like Dean. 

His phone vibrated again. He pulled it out of his pocked and itched to hit the ‘ignore” button. But the Slayer was persistent. As she was wont to remind him, she hadn’t made it to ‘forty something’ by giving up. “Alright Slayer,” he pressed the talk button. 

“Finally. Was starting to think you’re ignoring my calls, Spike.” 

“You wound me, Slayer. How are the kiddies?” 

“I’d rather be out fighting demons.” 

He snorted. “Thought so. Did warn you, yeah?” 

She laughed. “How ‘bout you.” 

“No. No kiddies yet.” He dropped the smoke, looked up and drew a silent breath. She prattled on, but he wasn’t listening. 

“Spike, hey?” 

“Here.” 

“What about… you know, that other thing.” 

“What other thing?” 

“Family. You said… you said you found one.” She went silent, then spoke. “You’ll have to bring them over to meet me some time.” 

“I will.” His voice broke. “Got to go, yeah?” He closed the phone and shoved it back inside his pocket. 

Turning on his heels, he ignored the insistent vibration of his now silenced phone, entered the steel door of the club and strode to the bar, roughly pushing away anyone who got in his way. “Line em up… better yet, give me the whole bloody bottle.” 

The bar tender brought a whiskey special over - it was enhanced to affect vampires. “You need to relax, man. Lots of choices here.” 

“Here’s my choice.” Lifting the bottle to his mouth, Spike took a long drink, wishing it would burn out the images of green eyes challenging him, cursing him, begging him. Wishing he didn’t need to hear that sexy drawl just one more time. Maybe he’d find another pay phone somewhere and call to listen to _his_ voice mail later. Or maybe he should just fucking get over it already. The bottle was back at his mouth. Tipping his head back, he swallowed down the burning liquid. 

Another bar tender came around. “Other night, some guys were out here looking for you. Heard what went down in Dark Haven. Someone’s fucking pissed.” 

Spike shrugged. “They can sod off. Not worried, yeah?” 

“You should be. Keep low for a while, they were serious. I’m talking armada strength here.” 

Spike’s gaze met his. “I’m flattered.” 

He finished the bottle, spun it on the bar top, then headed out. He might be spoiling for a fight, but if there were as many of them the bartender said, it was best he avoid them. He couldn’t risk getting killed, not for a few months yet. 

 

******

 

Another month passed. The Impala sat on the side of an old dirt road in the middle of nowhere. It was the way the Winchesters traveled. Old back roads, avoiding major highways when they could. Dean was cleaning the trunk out. Sam stood beside him, taking items and setting them on the ground. The tool box was beside Sam's feet as well as the cooler for their beer.

Sam got two beers, then sat on the cooler, and handed one over to Dean, "Here."

Dean took the beer, "Thanks." He lifted up a box of Spike's cereal and stared at it.

Sam tried not to say anything. He missed Spike as well. Someone to side up with him against Dean or the other way around. There hadn't been many reminders but it was the little things that did it. Especially for Dean. "You should really throw that away. It's probably stale by now."

"Probably should," Dean nodded as he stared at the box some more. He placed it aside. "He always loved this stuff. Mixed in his breakfast blood. You would think eggs. Pancakes. But this?"

"Said he needed more fiber in his diet." Sam shook his head with a smile.

"Yeah," Dean nodded, and the words slipped out, "Miss other things about him too." Like his smell. His touch. The way he held him. The intensity of his gaze from anywhere in a room. His lips and his voice. So much and yet, here he was with no Spike.

"Then why don't we find him, Dean. You've been like this for weeks. I know you miss him. I miss him too."

"What good would it do? He was the one who left. He ..." Dean sighed. Silence dragged before he spoke again, "Wouldn't know where to look."

"We can start someplace. You said he was known as William the Bloody? We can start there." Sam stood up.

"I don't know, Sam," Dean was repacking things back in the car.

"What if we can find him?"

"Then what? What if he doesn't want to ..."

"Dean, if anything he will tell you face to face." Sam looked sadly Dean. It pained him to see his brother like this, carrying the weight of so much hurt. It was worse than when it had been about Cassie. Spike was really under his skin. In his heart and a part of his brother's soul. 

Dean shoved the box of cereal back and slammed the trunk. "He left. He doesn't want to be found. Let's just leave it at that," he choked out.

Sam merely nodded, silently agreeing but inside him, he knew what he had to do.

 

*****

Darkness was just falling over the rambling plantation house. Had it been so many decades since he and the others of the fanged four had taken refuge here for a few months? Those had been the days when he hadn’t known loneliness. Now it clung to him like a second skin.   
Leaning back on the old porch chair, Spike put his leg up on the antique table, and knocked back some more whiskey. If he had enough, maybe he’d slip into a dream about those days. Maybe he’d stop seeing the green eyed hunter who cussed him out in every dream, or his gentler brother who’d reluctantly let him into their home. Maybe.   
Spike whistled a tune, intermingling it with his own words… one man’s poetry, another man’s trash. But it came straight from his heart, and fell on dead ears. 

* 

It had taken him a while. A while to research and find information to track back through history, cross reference the times and places he would need to look. Time that the younger Winchester didn’t feel like he had. 

Time was ticking. Not only on him, but on someone dear to him. His brother, Dean. 

Armed with the location of where to find the one person who could help them, Sam drugged his brother to sleep and took off in the Impala. Lucky, they were not far, but Sam still had to park the car far enough away so as to not give himself away to the vampire, in case he ran.

Now he was walking down wind, around the porch that belonged to an old plantation house and he was armed with nothing more than his wits. 

He came around the corner and stopped, hearing the sad poem and waited a moment before he spoke. "You know it doesn't have to be this way." 

Spike’s head jerked around. _Sammy._ He felt a lump rise in his throat as his gaze pierced the darkness, searching… searching for Dean. His scent… his unique heartbeat was nowhere to be found. 

He waited for Sam to start climbing the stairs before he answered. “Sound like me, now. I was wrong.” Hadn’t he once said almost the exact same words to Dean, accused him of choosing to be alone? “Go home. Leave me the bloody hell alone, the lot of you.” Eyes burning, he took another swig of his drink. 

"No. Because you are gonna listen to me. You and Dean are the two most stubborn, pig headed, afraid-to-admit-your-feelings people I have ever had the pleasure to be around. And it's gonna end. It has to end." He pulled his tall muscular form up the stairs to stand over Spike. 

Spike looked up. Any other time, he would have been amused. Some things never changed, did they? But today, the look of determination on Sam’s young face scared Spike. He didn’t want to hear the things that hurt, he didn’t want to face them when he was awake… wasn’t it enough that they haunted him in his dreams?

Forcing a hard edge into his voice, he spoke. “Listen, little brother. Not dealing with Dean here. Name’s William the Bloody for a reason. Don’t make me show you,” he whispered. 

"You think that is gonna scare me? When we deal with a demon older and stronger than you? Now just shut up and listen." He grabbed the bottle from Spike. "I need you to come back with me. I need you to help me save Dean." 

Spike shot up and slammed his palms into Sam’s chest, sending him backwards toward the stairs. “He doesn’t want to be saved… doesn’t need to be saved, not like that. Now get the fuck out… before I show you the side of me you haven’t met yet.” Turning his back, as if the matter was over, Spike picked up the bottle that was tilted onto its side, swearing at the fact half of the liquor was gone. Gripping it, he headed inside and barred the door shut behind him. Peace, all he wanted was peace. 

Sam stumbled but neither the shove nor the vampire’s anger was gonna put him off his quest that easily. He stalked up to the door and tested it. When it didn't open, he stepped back. The door flew open and banged back loudly, enough to draw the vampire's attention. This time, Sam’s head didn’t hurt.

"He does want to be saved. He does want to live, damnit," Sam snapped at the vampire. "And don't make me show you the side of me you haven't and don't want to see." Sam lowered his head in giving Spike a very angry look.   
Spike’s gaze flew to the door, then to Sam. He didn’t know what fancy new weapon the boy had used, but he didn’t care. He cocked his head to the side. “I don’t take lightly to threats, yeah? This is my home. You… you’re not welcome here.” _Sam… Sam who’d let him in, when he could have shut him out, could have easily swayed his brother._ A bitter taste slid down Spike’s throat. “Get out,” he roared. **“Get out, get out, get out!”** When Sam didn’t, Spike attacked, striking him, shoving him… wanting to get him the hell away.   
Sam flew back into a table, his back catching its edge. It only fueled his anger… the bastard vampire was pissing him off much like his brother. Worse, like his father. His eyes flashed to a yellow hue. Sam was up on his feet while a strong invisible force shoved Spike, sending him flying across the room until he was pinned to a wall, held fast without Sam even touching him.   
Sam hadn't wanted it to come to his, even as he approached and was wiping blood away from his own mouth. "I know who you are, Spike. Or shall I say William the Bloody." His voice was still laced with anger but he was calming down. "And I came here for a reason. I came here for Dean."   
Spike struggled against the invisible force that held him to the wall, growled and swore up a storm. “What is this… fucking hell,” he arched off the wall, trying to push away, his eyes blazing with anger at Sam. How the fucking hell was he doing this… was this what the vampires in Dark Haven had been trying to trigger. Suddenly, he flagged and stopped struggling. “Have your say, then get out of here. Won’t make a bloody bit of difference.” 

Sam strolled up, staring at Spike, "Maybe, maybe not," he started slowly as he looked down for a moment. "Since you’ve been gone, a lot has happened. Dean ..." Sam shook his head, "You know what it's like to keep someone from killing themselves? Throwing themselves at every dangerous situation they can?" 

His chest was heaving from the exertion of trying to get free, but Sam’s words stopped him cold. Then again, he knew the boys were masters of using the right words. Stiffening his jaw, he answered. “If you can do _this_. You can protect him.” 

"No, I can't," Sam admitted. "You broke his heart. When he woke and you weren't there and I had to tell him you left ..." Sam got a pained look on his face. "You didn't have to see his eyes. You didn't have to see ..." Sam cut off, his eyes glistening with tears. "I can't protect him. I can't save him from himself."

“Neither can I” Spike shouted, trying to ease the pain in his gut ... in his very soul. He tried to wrench his arm away from the wall and winced with pain. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see inside his head.” Swallowing, he looked at a point past Sam’s shoulder. “What would your father say to him if he found him with another man? Huh Sammy, answer me that? Give me the truth,” he shifted his gaze back to the younger Winchester. 

"Christo," Sam answered honestly. "But then our father ... Well he's not here. You are. And Dean knew what he was doing when he asked you. He knew he couldn't be saved any other way. Damnit, Spike," He moved in closer. "I don't want Dean to become a Demon. Demon like those others. Did you know some of those demons down there were once human. And that is what Dean will become." 

"You don't understand. I don't give a fuck what your father would think... not a fuck. But _he_ does. Dean knows what his father would say to finding him with a man. Add to that a vampire ... someone with a demon inside. And take it one step further ... choosing to be demon." He tried again to get free, "Unbind me ... now!" He struggled to calm himself. "What if he can't handle that voice Sam? What if he picks up that bloody precious colt of his and blows his brains out? I won't be responsible for that. I can't ..." 

“You are acting just like our father!" Sam snapped and moved in closer. "He never gave Dean a choice in his life. And when Dean did finally made a choice - to be with you and hope that you would get him through this cause he trusted and loved you, you left him, just like our father, giving him NO choice in the matter!"

“It’s not like that ... it’s not.” But his eyes were on Sam’s, hungry to hear more ... aching to know. “He said that? He said he loves me?” Time stretched, seconds felt like hours. 

"Then what is it?" Sam held Spike's eyes. "Yes, he did say that. He told me he loved you but like everyone else in his life, you left him. Left him alone. I'm the only one who hasn't and unlike you or my father, I'm not giving up on him." 

“He’s not alone. He has you.” He looked away. “I haven’t given up on him. Let me go Sam.” 

"It's not the same. You don't see how empty he is. He has always had me but nothing of his own." Sam released Spike, letting him drop to the ground on his feet. 

“You don’t know your power over him, that’s your problem.” It was a problem that had bothered Spike to no end, before he got to know Sam. “Sam. I’ll be there on the day … reckoning day. More than one can make a deal, yeah?” He’d thought about it every single day he’d been apart from Dean. A way to save him. “Do you know how rare a vampire’s soul is? Plenty of human ones. Just two ... two vampire souls in the whole world. You’ll get to keep your brother. It’s the right thing ... and you know it. Go home and sleep now.” 

"Dean trusts, trusted you. I do too. And if Dean means anything to you," Sam sighed softly, "You'll do the right thing." 

“That _is_ the right thing. You don’t want him turned, you never did.” It was the truth and they both knew it. Given the option, Sam would never opt for Dean turning, never. 

“No, I don't, I'll admit it, but if it will save his life, in a way, keep him from hell, then ... besides, it’s not my choice to make. It’s Dean's." Sam turned and started to walk away. 

“Sam. Take a message from me?” he asked, giving him an enigmatic look. When Sam agreed, Spike moved in and pulled Sam into his arms, pulling him down to reach him. Holding Sam tight, he fixed his mouth over Sam’s and kissed him, gently, but firmly, pushing his tongue inside and using all of his experience to elicit a response, to engage Sam’s tongue in a heated dance. God ... he wasn't Dean, he didn’t feel like Dean ... but there was so much that was alike, the way he moved, the way he tasted, even the way his heart skipped a beat. 

Breaking the kiss, he let Sam go. “Just like that, Sam. That’s how he likes it. Him and you, do you get my meaning? Him and you.” Maybe he was like their father, maybe he’d just decided what was best for them. Turning, he walked away, telling himself it was practice. He’d have to walk away from the ones he loved one last time, in less than a month. And then it would be over. 

Sam stood, half dumbfounded, half worked up. He gazed sadly after Spike and then knew what he had to do. He had to send Dean here. He started to leave but then stopped, "Spike," he called back to him, "I already know how Dean likes it." He only kissed his brother once, shortly after Spike left. It was a weak moment for them both. However it got Dean through their job. And it got Dean through without attempting to get himself killed. "But he still loves you." He gave a little snort laugh, "Still carries your wheat a bix cereal in the trunk." He turned and walked out. 

* * *

Another week passed, they seemed to go faster nowadays.

Spike headed up the walkway of the rambling old plantation house with a paper bag in his hand. These days, his groceries were mainly liquor and cigarettes. All day long, he’d watch Passions and his other soaps, without fear of interference from certain noisy parties who liked to make fun… or who’d steal the remote… or sex him up and make him miss parts of the show. 

_Bloody fucking hell, I’m turning into a maudlin old woman._ Climbing the porch stairs, he kicked the front door open and walked into the dark house. If he hadn’t had that much liquor running through his veins… if his mind hadn’t been preoccupied with things of the past, and things that would never be, he might have felt something was off. He might not have walked in or started to climb the stairs. 

He stumbled against the wall, and his flesh burned. Just as he shouted, flood lights erupted from all sides of the large room. Spike put his arm in front of his sensitive eyes and blinked. Vampires… no, he heard heart beats… many many heart beats.

 

There were crucifixes…. All over. On the walls, on the floors, on the tables… there were full on large crosses brought in from the tombs on the plantation grounds … they were being used to block various exits and windows from the room. As if that wasn't enough, planks had been nailed across the windows, especially the ones high up. He'd make a fine target if he tried to get up there and had to work them loose before making his way out from there. Could the night get any more fucked up?


	11. Chapter 11

“William the Bloody…” a gravelly voice came from a portly man in tan and plaid clothing, carrying a long dagger with a cross at the hilt. “Prepare to die.” 

Spike jumped up onto the banister, his eyes adjusted and he saw he was outnumbered. “We all have to die. But not today.” He flew off the railing, game faced and ready to fight his way out. 

Rebel yells echoed around the room as rogue demon hunters attacked from all sides. Guns were fired, swords were drawn, arrows flew from cross bows, blood flowed… flesh burned on crosses, and holy water ate into Spike’s skin. He gave as good as he got, swinging a plank he'd torn off a door around and slamming it into those who hunted him. The long nail attached to one end was buried into a body, so he struggled to tear it free, then twirled the plank before whipping it into the backs of two others and sending them hurtling through the air. Spike was more than a bit pleased to see that when they slammed into the wall, they brought a few crosses down with them.

A booted foot struck him in the chest and sent him sprawling. Spike growled and pulled his seered flesh away from the cross on the wall. Whipping his arm around, he gripped the neck of a hunter and slammed his head repeatedly into the wall, then let him slide to the ground. An arrow almost hit his head. He ducked, tumbled out of the way, and kicked a cross over to slow them down. His boots smoked. 

“Come on boys, get him.” 

Blood and sweat covered Spike’s body… their blood and swell, and his own… but he wasn’t done for, not yet. Roaring to drown out their shouts, he threw himself at the closest attacker. Fists slammed into flesh, hands gripped wrists, struggled to disable... struggled to hold each other fast. Spike got the hunter into a headlock and turned the stake in the guy's hand around, angling it to his stomach and then kicking him in the arse with his knee. Warm blood spilled over his hand.

The man he’d staked was a father and a brother of several. The light of hate flared in his family members’ eyes. They attacked at once, converging on the vampire with a powerful rage born of sorrow for their fallen. Minutes stretched like hours in close combat.   
Every bone in his body felt like it was cracked or sprained, in pain. His knuckles swollen. His cut cheeks and eyes. His raw throat. There were so many men down… but so many left to go. Spike’s body gave out. 

He was thrown against one of the crosses from the graveyard. Arms looped around the cross bar, he dangled from the cross, his bare chest sizzling and peeling away, the smell of burnt flesh teasing his nostrils. In a moment, he’d push away… remind them who William the Bloody was, that’s what. 

Before he could make good on that, something hot pierced his flesh and bone. Spike arched back as a blade cut through is back like butter, slicing him open on one side. Blood flowed. Sounds dulled. Hanging from the cross, Spike fought the weight of the blackness that threatened to engulf him. Maybe he owed Sam an apology. Maybe he wouldn’t be there for Dean when the time came, after all. 

* 

Figures in black moved across the porch, creeping along till they reached the door. There were only two. One nodded to the other and a canister was pulled out of a pack. One of the figures pulled the pin, waited for the other to fling the door open and then tossed the canister deep into the house. More canisters were flung inside, and then the two figures wearing gas masks went inside and started attacking the hunters, knocking them out as smoke and gas filled the room. 

The taller of the two rushed over to Spike, grabbing him, trying to dragging him out. The shorter one was whaling on the hunters, showing no mercy, only harsh brutal anger. 

His mind almost as numb as his body, Spike mixed up the past and the present. “Sodding initiative,” he growled, trying to push the _soldier_ away. He’d rather die here than be taken to one of their prisons again. William the Bloody reared his head, one last time… one last round… the silver dagger he kept at his side… Dean’s favorite… erupted into his hand, and he had its point up against the throat of his attacker. 

Sam growled, "Damnit, Spike, we're here to rescue you." 

The dagger slipped from Spike’s fingers and hit the ground. His gut clenched painfully at the thought of what he might have done… had been so close to doing. And there was the whole _we_ aspect to what Sam said. Meant Dean was here… 

Coughing up a bit of blood, Spike started to allow Sam to drag him, but then stopped suddenly and stretched down to the ground. The dagger now safely in his fist, he nodded, leaning most of his weight on Sam and doing his best to keep his legs moving. 

Sam glanced back at Dean finding his brother in trouble. "Duck!" He shouted and fired but he hadn't realized he’d given a mental shove to his brother as he fired the gun at the same time. The bullet sailed past Dean before striking the man who was threatening him. "Let's go! Got him!" He started moving with his brother going past him and busting out the door, and once he and Spike were out, closing it and barring the door from the outside to slow the others down. 

Sam got Spike to the car, shoving him in the back seat while Dean got in the front, getting the car started and pulling them away. "How is he?" Dean asked, pulling his mask and head covering off.

Spike groaned. “If I don’t die from this, your driving’ll finish me off.” He struggled to keep his eyes open, to see Dean, but he was slipping into the darkness. Too hard. This time he tried to concentrate on Sam’s face, which was closer. He moved his hand to the gaping wound at his side and knew he’d lost a lot of blood. Too much. 

Sam was fiercely trying to stop the bleeding. "Dean, find someplace quick, he's losing a lot of blood." 

Dean nodded and slammed down on the peddle. The Impala roared down the back roads until they got to a house and quickly got Spike inside.

Sam and Dean worked at getting Spike patched up. "He's lost a lot of blood, Dean," Sam looked to his brother. 

Spike could hear their voices, but it was as if they were talking about him from the other end of a long, hollow tunnel. He knew why Sam had come… he needed him for the deal. But Dean? _Don’t be a fucking git_ a voice, his own, whispered, but he could barely concentrate on the brothers’ voices as it was. 

"I'll go get him some," Dean started to grab his keys when Sam shot up. 

"No, I'll go, you stay with him," Sam took the keys. 

Dean watched as his brother left before going back to Spike and sitting down, "See, this is why you need me around. Keep your ass out of trouble." 

“For… for more than that,” he managed, putting his hand out. His perceptions were off, he could barely see and couldn’t find Dean, so he dropped his blood slicked hand and slowly let the paralysis climb up his body, from his extremities upwards. 

Dean grabbed Spike's hand, holding it. "For more than that." He repeated. He leaned in closer, "You need blood now. Take mine." 

Spike worked his throat. “No. Took… too much,” he tried to smile… to not remember almost draining Dean… to not crave his blood, thirst for it. Maybe if he closed his eyes, time would pass, and Sam would be back with what he needed. 

"Damnit, you need it. Now stop arguing with me," Dean felt he could force Spike cause the vampire was weak. Just give him enough to get him to hold on. Dean wasn't about to watch or let someone else die. 

One hand behind the vampire’s neck, he lifted Spike's head, and lowered his own down over him. Dean reached into his boot, drawing out his knife. He took the edge and ran it over his own throat, letting blood spill to get Spike to act.

"No... no... damn you..." When the first drop of Dean's blood splattered on his lips, Spike's ability to resist dissipated. 'No' became 'YES'. Instinctively, he reached behind Dean's head and pressed him closer, latching his mouth over the shallow cut and drawing in Dean's lifeblood. They'd connected once before, and this time it was instantaneous. With every lick, every suck, every swallow, the conduit between them strengthened. Loneliness and anger, that struck him the hardest. And fear. 

Dean closed his eyes, holding Spike, letting the vampire hold him. He couldn't control his emotions. They spilled out but only in his blood, though his lashes were wet from un-fallen tears. When Dean started to feel light headed, he pulled back, forcing Spike to let him go. "Enough," he whispered then placed his hand on his cut, getting up and accidentally kicking the knife that Spike had dropped. He glanced down, frowning before getting a towel and holding it over his neck to stop the bleeding.

"Is that my knife?" He asked.

The words echoed in Spike's head. He could still taste Dean, still craved him... Now, and back then - the day he'd left. He'd wanted to take a picture of Dean's... something, anything that would prove to him that their time together hadn't been a dream, that it had been real. The temptation to paw through Dean's treasured box of photos had been almost overwhelming, but in the end, he'd pocketed the Hunter's favorite knife. The one he kept on his body by day, and under his pillow at night.

Spike licked his lips and tried to sit up, but wincing, fell back again. The blood had helped, but it wasn't enough. He felt the weight of Dean's gaze still on him, waiting for a response. "Sue me."

Dean lifted up his knife as he sat down on the edge of the couch next to Spike. "You know I tore the car apart looking for this. Was my favorite knife. First one my father ever bought me." He looked over to Spike. "Get some rest. Sam will be here soon." It took everything he had to speak calmly while turmoil raged inside him. He wanted to yell and scream, even punch Spike for leaving him. For just walking out as his father had. His brother once hand. Leaving him alone. But then here he was, needing him. Dean knew he would have to wait for all that. Till Spike was stronger. For now, he would take care of him.

 _Father_. Always the father came between them, whether Dean realized it or not. 

"Thank you... and Sam." Spike finally closed his eyes, safe, safe with his boys.

 

*

 

The rest of the night and next day was a blur to Spike. He knew he'd been awakened and fed by the brothers, who took turns. He knew he'd been cleaned up, his bandages changed. And he was aware that Dean lay next to him on the bed, sometimes touching him as if to check whether he was alright. 

Every feeding made him stronger, healed his broken bones, torn ligaments, and deep wounds. He woke the next evening and quietly got up all on his own. Dean was sprawled on the bed on his stomach, with one hand under the pillow... probably keeping a heavy hand on that knife of his, Spike thought with a smirk. Then there was Sam with his arms flung up over his head, looking even more innocent if that were possible.

 _Home_ The word echoed and resonated through Spike, and drowned him in both elation and sorrow. When he couldn't take the storm of emotions any more, he went to take a shower.

*

Dean was out upon the back porch, cup of coffee in his hand. Yes it was late at night, but when did that ever stop the Winchesters from drinking their brew of life. He was taking a sip when the door opened and he knew it wasn't Sam. Sam was 'dead' to the world in the bedroom, sprawled on the bed. Dean hadn't heard when Spike got up and went to shower. Tired these days, he slept heavy. Heavier than normal. And it was strange that he did. But deep down, he knew the reason.

Spike.

"Hungry?" Dean asked and motioned to the little table that had blood and a box of his strange cereal.

Spike looked over, met Dean's gaze, then looked away. "Just coffee," he said, popping inside to get a mug full. So much to say, and no way to say it. He lingered inside as much as he could, then came back and leaned against the door frame. "Why's he sleeping. Shouldn't still be... I should wake his arse up." _Then we wouldn't be alone._  
Dean glanced back, "Leave him sleep. Happens when you baby sit a vampire who wants to be awake all night and day moaning and groaning." He took a drink of his own cup. 

“Sorry. ‘Bout that… ‘bout… everything. And thank you. I know you had to hurt your own kind to get me out. Hope it doesn’t bring you trouble.” That was the last thing Spike wanted, to bring them more trouble. 

Dean gave a snort and shook his head, "Okay, gonna give you the 411. We are already in trouble with the other hunters because we opened up that damn hell's gate and let all those demons out. And as for getting you out, well, it was your friends from Dark Haven that set those hunter on your path. If Bobby hadn't called us to say where they were going, you would be crispier than bacon right about now. Guess they were pretty pissed at you." He looked back to him. 

“Have that effect on a lot of people,” he answered, staring right back and knowing the Vampires weren’t the only ones. He coughed, very loud… loud enough to wake the bloody dead, he hoped. 

Dean got up, shaking his head, "You know, if you can't stand the sight of me or don’t want to be around me, I'll just leave. You don't have to try and wake my brother. And at least I'll do it while you are awake." 

Spike felt his gut get wrenched out of him. “It’s not that… you bloody fucking well know it.” He muttered a few more choice swears. “I can’t stand…” a muscle flexed in his jaw, and he pressed his lips together, biting back the words _can’t stand knowing I’ll miss the sight of you_. 

Dean snapped, "Then what was it? Got my blood? God knows you already had my ass enough times. So got tired of me and chucked me away? No use for me anymore. Entertained you enough? You're just like my father," the last part was spoken low. 

Emotions raged, wound him up tight on the inside, pressing, building, wanting release. A dam broke, and Spike was in Dean’s face. “I could have had your blood and your arse all I wanted. I can still have it,” he said, raising his voice and brushing his body against Dean’s to make his point. “It’s not about what’s between us… there’s nothing wrong with that, never has been. But you…” he poked a finger into Dean’s chest. “You’re your father’s son. Always will be.” 

"Shut up, my father's dead," Dean snarled and with hands on the vampire's chest, shoving him back. 

Slammed against the door, Spike cursed and pushed him right back. “Not in your head, he’s not. He’s alive, and he tells you what to think, what to feel. I heard him, yeah?” 

"He’s ALWAYS been in my head, since I was a kid. Telling what to do. What to say. How to feel. How to act. EVERYTHING!" Dean hollered back. "But he was a bastard. He didn't give a shit about me. All he had me there for was to take care of Sam. Always saying, 'take care of Sam,' and not once did it go the other way." 

“I KNOW that… doesn’t change anything. Dean…” he ran his hand through his hair and looked toward the house. “Let’s not do this. Not now. You’re going to wake him.” 

"Bastard," Dean snarled and punched Spike. "You’re no better than _him_." He turned and started walking down the stairs. 

“Sod it all…” Rubbing his jaw, Spike followed him down and grabbing his arm, swung him around. “You might be right… I never claimed to be anything but a right bastard. But I didn’t mean to hurt you…” he shook his head, “… and unlike him, I could never ignore you. Use you. Forget you. Bloody fucking hell, you’re in here,” he touched his temple, “and here,” he touched where his dead heart was located. “But I’m not what you need. You may not know it here,” he tapped Dean’s temple this time, “but it’s true.” 

"Just doing what is best for me?" Dean gave a sarcastic tone. "They all do. Not listening to what I want." 

“I listened. I heard enough, yeah?” Spike bit his lip and tried to recall. Things that were said in the heat of blood lust were never crystal clear. “He told you that you couldn’t have it… this… us. _Yes sir_ , it’s what you said,” he put his hand out to stop Dean. “Not blaming you. Just telling you… you can’t handle it, this…” his gaze dropped to Dean’s mouth and without touching the hunter, he felt a searing heat go through his system. “It will eat you alive, sooner or later.” 

"And demons won't? That is what I used to tell to my father. But he screwed up my life. Couldn't even call me son! Hell the car I drive was once his. My favorite leather jacket, his. Even my music. But I know what I feel in here is me," He touched his own chest. "That I'm sure about and you or him not once asked me about it… what’s in here." 

“Son of a…” Biting his lower lip, Spike looked away, but only for an instant. When he looked back, his eyes burned with his emotions. “Ask you? What happens anytime I get close? What happened when I asked you to phone me?” He spread his hands out. “What the bloody fuck happened in the hospital? You think I’m unbreakable… you think… Right, this isn’t the point.” He took a few steps away, trying to clear his head and to find a calm place. 

"You don't fucking listen to me. You don't hear the words I am not speaking. Because its all about you. Always is!" Dean threw his body into Spikes, sending them tumbling. 

Instinctively, Spike’s arms closed around Dean as they hit the ground. He tried to cushion Dean, but the hunter wasn’t having it. Instead, he was scrambling to hit him again, to hit him when Spike’s body was giving him other messages. “I hear them… dammit,” he shoved the hunter, tried to throw him off. “Don’t match what’s in your head, yeah? In your blood.” 

Dean wasn't hearing it, trying to get his point across that he was his own person and that he was speaking from his heart. That he didn't listen to those voices in his head any more. 

Spike dodged a blow, rolled away and before he could get up, Dean had him by his shirt and was straddling him. The first punch landed on his jaw. He was prepared for the second, and gripped Dean’s fist. So much anger… didn’t he know? Surging up, Spike melded his mouth against Dean’s. What was meant to be a move to distract backfired badly. The vampire was slammed with need… need to fill the void that had been his life since the moment he’d walked out on Dean. 

“Damn you,’ he growled, gripping Dean’s hair and trying to tear him away, but inexplicably following with his mouth… still kissing him, still seeking out that tongue of his for more. 

Dean was stunned but his mouth remembered how Spike tasted. His body remembered how he felt. Filled with need, want and desire, he wouldn't let Spike pull away too far. He was at him again, kissing him harder, pushing him back. God, he missed him. 

“This is not solving any—mnph,” mouth on mouth again, Dean’s hand was on his waist and Spike reacted instantly. Hard. Hot. Heavy. He arched his back as he started to sit up, and found his shirt being tugged roughly over his head. “Dean… are you listening?” 

Dean could hear the seams of Spike's clothing strain as he pulled that shirt off and tossed it aside. His mouth next latched over the vampire's, again devouring him and trying not to give either of them a chance to speak. With shirt gone, Dean's hands went to their next task, getting Spike’s pants open. Dean also hoped, the answer to Spike's question was coming over loud and clear. 

White hot fire raced through Spike, derailing any good intentions. Groaning against Dean’s lips, he pushed his hands under the hunter’s shirt, kneading his back, aching for more, skimming his palms around to the front of his pants and undoing them. “What happens after we fuck,” he just barely managed to ask, unable to ignore the heat of anger still flashing from Dean’s eyes. 

"Just shut up for once," he growled and slammed Spike back into the ground. He dropped over him, kissing him while his hand dropped down into those pants and grasped his cock. "God, I need you," he hissed out before kissing him again. 

Blood surged into Spike’s cock, thickening it… making it throb in Dean’s hand. “Can’t fight this… can’t anymore,” he groaned, giving up. There might be hell to pay later. Glass to be walked over. It would be like going back to square one… tasting what had to end, but he couldn’t fight it without some help, and Dean wasn’t helping. 

Only sheer willpower held him in place while he allowed Dean to touch him all over, to squeeze him… to kiss him like the sun wasn’t coming up tomorrow. “Fuck…” A sheen of sweat broke over his body as he took the hunter’s anger, took his need, gave in to his every demand. 

Dean's mouth moved all over Spike. His teeth pulled at skin and his fingers pumped over Spike's cock. Dean then grabbed Spike's wrist and pinned him as his dropped his hips over him and started rocking against him. He remembered how that always drove Spike crazy to no end. 

Spike arched, rising clear off the mossy ground as a deep groan broke from the back of his throat. He ached to reverse their positions, to master Dean, to fight him, to show him all the things they had yet to try. But he took it, he raised his hips like a piston, seeking, needing more friction, he let the hunter bathe him in lust… work him up to a fevered pitch. And all the while, he kissed Dean everywhere he could… his throat, his shoulders… the tattoo that should have been meant for him, that would have been in a perfect world. 

An unwanted shot of sadness swept through him at that thought. He had to drive it out… drive it out of his head and his system. He jackknifed to a sitting position, pushing Dean down his legs so he could grab the guy’s jeans and drag them off. Dean lifted up slightly to allow Spike to get rid of his own clothes, then Dean’s shirt was gone too. They stared at each other for a split second, and then Spike closed his arms around Dean and rolled him under. 

Inexplicably, he whispered. “There’s nothing perfect in this world. This is as close as we get, yeah?” And then he set himself loose, let the lust take over, pushing one knee between Dean’s legs, gathering him up… using his mouth and teeth, his tongue to brand him all over again, to remind him what the love of a vampire could be like. 

Dean was cursing up a storm, murmuring low under his breath as he worked his mouth against the Vampire. This was probably as close as either of them would get. Dean had accepted it long ago. His heart pounded so hard and heavy, he couldn’t hear anything beyond Spike's words. It skipped a beat, and he knew Spike adored that… always gasped or reacted when it happened. Dean was ready for Spike, had long been. 

"Fuck me, Spike," he pulled him down and kissed him. 

“What you said,” he agreed, unable to think of even one game to play this time. His tongue dueled with Dean’s, taking possession of his mouth, as he slid his hands down the smooth, taut skin along his sides to grip his hips. He fucked him slowly, letting the fire between them build to an inferno before kneeling and readjusting his cock, teasing Dean’s entrance for two strokes before pushing inside. Blinded by lust… by need, he croaked the hunter’s name, moving slowly even as it killed him. 

It was all just bliss now. Lovely, burning bliss. Dean swore then moaned out Spike's name as he moved his own hips to adjust. Now the burn was becoming sweet and heavenly. Dean's hands were on Spike's arms, holding on as if he feared the vampire would leave again. 

Once Dean started to fuck, Spike couldn’t hold back. He pushed inside again, and again, breaking his kisses to watch Dean’s reactions, to read the need in his glazed eyes… to see him lick those swollen lips. So hot… so fucking erotic, and the hunter wasn’t even trying. A mindless urgency held Spike in its grips as he dragged Dean closer and fucked, and fucked him. With each thrust, he brought them closer to heaven, closer to that one moment of happiness no one could take from them. Not Dean’s father. Not anyone. 

Dean grunted with each thrust, his body moved slightly but Spike pulled him back. Dean's face reflected the pleasure, his eyes closing and his back arching a bit before he grabbed Spike and pulled him down, bending him, bending himself as he kissed him. He then ran his mouth along Spike's jaw and to his ear, "Want to feel you cum in me." 

That wasn’t a problem. Spike was ready to explode as sensations rocked his body each time they move together. He impaled himself deeper … harder inside Dean’s tight sheath, letting the sounds breaking from Dean take him careening over the edge. He came hard and fast… hot and deep inside the hunter… but he kept fucking, trying to keep his mind off another need that was working its way into his consciousness. 

Fuck. He swore under his breath as Dean repeatedly brought his throat to his mouth… brushed his pulse over his lips. Just as he’d feared, his vampire instincts wanted what he’d cheated them out of last time. A son. His son. His lover. His companion forever. He started to shake… Fought. “No…. oh God …. Please… run…” he pleaded, closing his eyes as he felt him come against his stomach. “Please…” 

Dean was drained of energy and he had to catch his breath. But then Spike was pleading him. Dean shook his head, "No." 

Spike started to shake so bad, his teeth rattled. “Go…” he shoved at Dean, trying to pull away, trying to fight the terrible craving. “Hurts…” 

Dean pulled away just a bit, but hen he grabbed Spike, jerked him to his body and held them tightly together, "I asked you to the first time. I wanted you to." He cupped Spike's cheek, "I wanted to be with you then because I loved you." 

Spike was in hell. How else would you describe a place where you had to reject heaven? He swallowed hard under the intensity of Dean’s gaze. It hurt as much as the craving. He moved his face to the side, scraping his teeth across Dean’s palm, fighting not to break his skin. “Because I love you. Because of it,” he hoarsely tried to explain his next action, mustering all of his will power and breaking free of Dean. 

He rolled away, trying to close his mind to the barrage of images… his teeth sinking inside the hunter, the mingling of their blood… a family for all time. A few tears escaped from his eyes, but he wasn’t looking at Dean as he snatched his clothes and started to silently dress. 

Dean looked down, closed his eyes as he felt rejected once again. But then he looked at Spike while he dressed, they both dressed. "Is it always gonna be like this?" 

“Not always.” Spike’s tone was clipped. He stole a glance at Dean and swore. “Didn’t you ever have to walk away from someone _because_ you loved them?” He ran his hand over his face, knowing it had been a mistake to get close again. 

He walked over grabbed him, spun him around then kissed him. "Yes, I have." He let him go. "I can't be saved. I'm gonna turn into a demon. And I’d rather ..." He swallowed hard. 

Spike saw the hesitation. A vampire was a demon too, even with a soul like Spike. “No you’re not. I won’t let that happen, Dean. Your brother won’t let it either.” He hugged him close, breathing in his scent, feeling his heart beating against his chest. “We’ve got a plan, yeah? You’re coming out of this alive. Trust me.” 

Dean just held him, tightly. He wanted to say he believed him. Wanted to say he knew he could trust him and Sam to save him but things hadn't been looking good. "I do trust you." 

“Well that’s something. You’re not taking it back… or that _other thing_ you said.” Leaning his chin on Dean’s shoulder, Spike saw that Sam had come out on the porch and was watching.

“I see you two worked things out," Sam pushed from where he was leaning and stepped down the stairs. 

Dean looked over toward his brother, "Yeah, sort of," he gently pushed Spike away. 

“Good morning, or should I say evening, Sunshine.” Spike smiled at the younger Winchester. “Keeping vampire hours now, are you.” Bad joke. 

"Only when one’s keeping me awake all day and night," He stopped before the two, towering over them. "I hope you two left me some coffee." 

Spike gave a nod. “If you’re hungry,” he looked at both brothers, “I can manage making dinner. Least I can do for…” he cocked his head. They knew. 

"Can we trust him to cook?" Sam asked in turning and heading toward the house. 

"Sure, why not. Besides, I'm starved," Dean smacked Spike's back and started heading up the stairs. "Oh, and while we eat you two can tell me this plan you have on saving me." 

Shit. Slowly following them inside, Spike came up with a plan… charm, divert, keep him laughing and give him no time to ask more questions. That was the ticket. 

Under their watchful and skeptical eyes, Spike cooked up the grandest breakfast he could. Cheese omelets, bacon, and fluffy pancakes. As he cooked, he told them to relax, he’d done this often for his girls. Even took special orders such as blueberries in the pancakes, not that they had the ingredients necessary now, but he was capable. Been the best cook in that bunch, at least. 

Sam set the table, and Dean… Dean was lounging around giving orders. “At least take the food to the table,” Spike said, knocking Dean on the shoulder much like Sam did all the time. 

Dean had rolled his eyes, grabbing the dishes to set them down. Spike and Sam's diversion worked. Dean forgot about his question, for now. Dean dropped down beside Sam who was already lifting his fork. "This actually looks pretty good." 

“Course it does.” Spike gave him a hurt look. “Looks good, tastes good. Like its maker.” 

They had breakfast for dinner. Sam and Dean picked on each other. Other times the two ganged up on Spike or Spike sided with one of the brothers. It was almost like old times. 

Long after they were done eating, Dean left the table. "You can clean up little bro. That's what you were born for anyway." 

"I'm always cleaning up after you," Sam commented as his brother walked away. Sam then turned to Spike. 

Spike ran his fingers through his hair and met Sam’s gaze. “How’re we going to keep him from going around the bend? When he finds out… and when I leave.” 

Sam drew a breath. He had lied to Dean before and it upset Dean. "Do you have to leave?" 

“Don’t want to. Don’t…” How could he explain that he felt like he belonged, that all three of them did? “I want to stay, more than anything. But…” he glanced toward the doorway Dean had gone through. “I’m afraid I’ll turn him. The compulsion is stronger now, and he’s not bloody helping. He won’t stop me.” 

"Then you just have to be stronger," Sam reached out and touched him. 

“It’s like saying no to the one thing that can save you.” He tried again to explain, but Sam was still staring at him, demanding he make the effort, that he do it for Dean. 

Spike gave a nod, “Yeah. Alright.”


	12. Chapter 12

[One week later]

Spike shifted the grocery bag to his other arm, kicked the motel room door open and headed straight for Sam. "Here you are, got you some porn. You need to loosen up, I should know," he said, with a smirk, practically stuffing the rolled up magazine into the front of the hunter's jacket since he wasn't reaching for it. 

Then he turned to Dean, and realized the room was too quiet, the looks being exchanged were too charged. "What? Does this mean we're going to have angry sex?" 

From his expression, Sam looked like he’d been worked over in a torture chamber. He had a guilty look. A sad look. And one that said he was sorry. His green eyes were directed down toward the floor.

“Well?” Spike demanded, of either brother.

Sam drew a breath, feeling the anger radiating off his brother. "He knows," he whispered so low you had to be a vampire or standing close to hear.

Dean shook his head at Spike, "You are a piece of work. Both of you." Hate… with an undertone of hurt was reflected in his tone… in his eyes. 

“You told him—“the accusations died on Spike’s lips when he saw Sam’s defeated and anguished stance. “Dean.” Spike almost winced at the hatred in his lover’s eyes. “Sit. Talk about this, yeah?” 

"Did you already make the deal?" Dean asked, arms crossed and not moving to take the offered seat. When Spike didn't answer right away, the words came out in a growling shout, "DID YOU MAKE THE DEAL!?" 

“Shit… No. Not yet,” Spike cocked his head. “It’s a solution. If you think about it for—“ 

"NO!" Dean shouted. He finally moved forward. "This deal is mine. Was mine to make. Mine to unmake." He snarled low. 

“Sam,” nodding toward the door in a silent request for privacy, Spike met Dean half way and stood in front of him, experiencing in full blast the other man’s fury. There were hundreds of words, but none of them stepping up to the plate. The silence stretched… their gazes clashed and waged a heavy battle. Neither one noticed when the door to the room opened and closed.

Spike struggled to find a way to make Dean understand, but in this mood… it was an unlikely prospect. “I should have told you,” he admitted. “You should have found out from me, for that I’m sorry. But you listen… he needs you, Sam needs you around,yeah?” He knew Dean’s blood… from it, he knew his weakness. “And I need you… need to know you’re alive.” 

Dean lashed out at Spike’s words, words that Spike didn’t know echoed out of the past. Of a voice both deeper and commanding. Speaking the words over and over till Dean could no longer forget them even when he wanted to. 

Raging with anger, Dean shoved Spike up against the wall. "You are not my father. I won't have you deciding. Sam doesn't need me. He never needed me. And if you even cared one bit for me, you wouldn’t be as selfish as my father was. Telling me what is best for me. What I should do." 

Snarling at the manhandling, Spike managed to stop himself from struggling. ‘Bollocks. He needs you… like you need him. This… whatever war you have going with the demon world isn’t ended.” When he felt Dean’s hands tighten around his shirt and push again, he gripped the hunter’s wrists. “I care. I care more than a bit. I love you, and you bloody well know it. Or you’d have seen my backside a long long time ago. You don’t want to hear it, so I show you… any way I can. You can close your eyes all you like, but not your mind. It’s the truth, and you know it.” He squeezed Dean’s wrists to emphasize his point. “And you love me, or you wouldn’t be this angry.” 

"You don't think I know that! It's never gonna end." Dean looked down at his wrists before shooting an angry frustrated look at Spike. "I don't want your love if this is how you show it. Not by my dad and not by you. I would rather hate you than let you go through with this." 

_Three words, and he still couldn’t say them._ Spike shouldn’t have been surprised. 

“It makes the most sense. It does,” he repeated, releasing Dean’s wrists, but cupping his chin and forcing him to hold his gaze. “I’ve lived almost two hundred years. Why do I get that much time, and you don’t? Doesn’t seem very fair, yeah? Anyway… I can make you hate me. Might already be off to a good start. I can do it if it will help. Hate me if you wish, but live,” he nodded, releasing him and looking away suddenly at the first sting of his eyes. He couldn't bring himself to say it... to say that if his soul was taken, one of the Winchesters would likely have to stake him. William the Bloody wasn't someone who should be allowed to roam the world. 

Dean felt his bottom lip tremble and his eyes water. He pulled back, "How can I go on knowing what you gave up for me? Did you ask Sam what happened when my father did?" Dean blinked and his eyes stung, "I love you. I don't care how long you’ve lived, I want you to live now." He looked down, "Besides, you would be better off protecting Sam than I could have ever have been." The last part was whispered. 

“No… you’re the one that keeps his heart safe,” he answered, turning, aching to kiss Dean’s tears away. “That’s what he needs now, something to keep him grounded… keep his humanity.” Only now did Spike admit to himself that the power he’d felt emanating from Sam when he’d been pinned to the wall was not lily white. “Say it again.” He gripped Dean’s arms, pulling him close. “Tell me again.” 

"No," Dean answered, "Not unless you promise me you won't make that deal, ever." It took all of Dean's will not to give in. Not to allow his knees to buckle and just fall into Spike. Dean wanted to live but not at this cost. 

Heat flashed in Spike’s eyes. Spreading his legs, he cupped Dean’s ass and brought him up hard against his body. He could hear his lover’s breath hitch, hear his blood rush. “Tell me.” Skimming his mouth across the edge of Dean’s jaw, he hovered over his mouth. “Say it.” 

As always, since they first met, Dean felt his body respond to Spike's touch. It was an uncontrollable habit, an addiction. As he gazed into Spike's heated eyes, he had to hold his reserve and not just give in. "You make that deal, not only will I have to possibly kill my brother but I will have to kill you. I can't live with that. You are making me do that. I can't kill the ones I love."

"Your brother. He can ..." Even as the words left his mouth, Spike finally realized how much he was asking of them. His intentions were pure, but the bloody execution of his plan would leave the Winchesters, particularly this Winchester, even more fucked up and hurting on the inside than when he'd first met them. Losing family. Being asked to kill family ... to be strong and just do it. To live with others giving their lives to see them live.... these were their burdens. In the short time he'd been with them, really been with them, Spike had accepted them as his family. Sam had called him that once. And this stubborn, unforgiving, hot behind the collar arse of a lover of his felt the same way... even if he bloody well refused to say it. 

"Alright," his voice broke, but he cleared his throat and continued, still holding Dean close. "I'll turn you... if we don't come up with some other way before..." he cocked his head, letting Dean fill in the blank. "I won't make the deal." They still had a few weeks... they could devote all of their time to the problem, there had to be a way, a loop hole. Some way out.

Dean waited a few breaths, making sure that Spike was not gonna take it back. He then surged in and kissed the vampire. The kiss was deep and demanding, pushing Spike back against the wall and their bodies tighter together. Dean bent his knees a bit, lowering himself down so his stiffening cock could rub against Spike as he got more upright.   
After allowing his tongue to explore every part of Spike's mouth, tasting and drinking him in, he slowly pulled back, lips brushing as he spoke, "I do love you."  
"Knew it." As cocky as he tried to act, Spike was moved beyond words. He slid his hands up and down Dean's body, memorizing it, every plane, every flexing muscle, the span of his waist... the breadth of his shoulders. Their eyes were locked, and neither one was saying anything, but their hands and bodies were never still. It was as if they were caught in a private dance and didn't need music. Their bodies knew exactly how to slide together, how to fit. "Are we having one of your chick flick moments?" 

"No, one of YOUR chick flick moments. I know you like watching One Tree Hill," Dean smirked and he just had to force himself to pull away. Sam was still outside. He couldn't leave his brother out there wondering. And as much as Dean would have wanted to savor this moment. To keep going further. To have Spike fuck him. To be fucked by his lover, there was his brother. 

He slowly moved back and he drew a breath to calm his heart rate. His hands slipped from Spike's body, "I really should go get Sam. Let him know what is going on." 

“Ask him.... ask him to get us some drinks.” He just wanted to buy them a bit of time. 

"Dude, you just brought some back." Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head. He walked over to the door, "Hey, Sammy, can you get me a pie? Something sweet to eat?" 

Sam turned quickly to see his brother at the door, Spike behind him. He leaned in looking at the vampire before looking to Dean. "Is everything, you know?" 

Dean nodded, "Will tell you when you get back." 

Sam drew a breath of relief before heading off, "I won't be long," 

Dean nodded. 

“He just likes to torture me,” Spike hazarded, thinking a long trip to the store would have been better. Sliding his arms around Dean’s waist, he kissed the side of his neck and started pulling him back to the bed. “Could have lost you again. Glad I didn’t.” 

Dean couldn't help leaning back into Spike, taking comfort from the feel of him. Finally, when they reached the bed, Dean took hold of Spike's hands and opened them up so he could turn around. "I could have lost you." 

“Tossed me away you mean?” Spike sat, drawing Dean close and looking up at him. Wasn’t many moments when the hunter wanted to talk, even when there was a lot to say... it usually went unsaid. 

"Toss you away? Why would I do that?" Dean looked at the vampire confused. After all, he only pushed him away once, regretted it and the second time, Spike walked away. 

“Today... you were so angry.” He ran his hands up and down Dean’s thighs and hips, keeping him close. “Wouldn’t have been surprised if you’d tried to stake me...” he gave a smug grin, “tried being the operative word.” 

Dean nodded, "True but that is a part of being a family, remember, you argue, fight, and love." He leaned in and gave Spike a kiss. "We are family." 

_Family_ Spike held him tight, kissing him, tasting him, exploring his mouth, listening to his heart beat... to the sound of his blood rushing. No, he wouldn’t think about the blood ... it would only bring him to the edge. 

Breaking the kiss, he moved over on the bed and patted the spot next to him. “Come. I...” He watched as Dean sat, then lay on his side and looked at him. “A few weeks back, I told a good friend I was with my family. I lied... wanted it to be true,” he cocked his head. 

“Not lying now, are you?" Dean asked in letting his eyes caress Spike's face before locking to his. Family was always important to the Winchesters. In fact, their lives revolved around it. "So you have a good friend? I'm shocked. Never mentioned them before." Dean teased. 

“I got friends, plenty of them,” Spike said, a bit stung. “They’re... almost family but not... they’re good friends. Want to meet you and Sam. When all this is over,” he cupped Dean’s cheek, rubbing his thumb over his full lips. Funny thing... they hunt demons too,” he shook his head. “I’m a walking irony... a demon who hunts demons and can’t keep the bloody hell away from hunters.” 

Dean shrugged, "Well irony or not, we're hunting with a vampire so what's the difference. And I know you have friends, I was just teasing besides, how can people really truly resist people like you and me?" Dean offered up. "So they hunt demons, have I heard of them?" 

Spike smiled. “You know... six months ago, you’d never have said that... asked what the difference is.” It made him ache inside... a good ache, the kind you got when something you only dreamed of came true. “Once she was The Slayer. Now, one of many slayers... semi-retired, but she can kick your arse and mine, when she’s of a mind to. Dean... enough talk.” 

Leaning forward on his side, he brought his mouth down hard over Dean’s. They didn’t have much time, but he wanted to show Dean how happy he was at this one moment in time. He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. He knew things could change, that triumph could turn to tragedy in seconds. Right now... he didn’t care. “Mine,” he whispered before grinding his mouth down again. 

Dean was pressed into the bedding and he gave a little moan. It was true, a few months ago, Dean didn't want to know about running with demons. But things changed. Spike was a part of him now. 

He returned the kiss, hearing the possessive whisper that echoed and seemed to finally drown out the voice of his father in his head. It was a good free feeling that allowed Dean to let himself go. 

After several long enjoyable minutes, Dean heard the door open. He turned on his side toward the door, feeling Spike crowd behind him, hard as steel. He lifted his head to see Sam walk in, sweets in hand and giving just a moment's pause before speaking, "Hey you two, I'm back." 

 

“Couldn’t have better timing,” Spike answered thickly. “We were just about to—“ an elbow in his rib stopped him. “Watch the telly. Want to put it on?” He smiled innocently under Sam’s speculative look, then as the younger hunter went to do as he asked, whispered in Dean’s ear. “New game... you’ll feel me wanting you... won’t say a word until he sleeps... then I’m fucking you, just like this... no sounds... no thrashing... no waking up baby brother... yeah?” His voice was thick with lust. It would be hours... hours before Sam slept. 

Dean felt his body temperature sky rocket. Just the thought of being fucked with Sam in the room. Trying not to make a sound. Trying not to thrash about. He looked back to Spike, his green eyes dark and filled with lust. 

Sam returned and sat on his bed. "You know, you two are like dogs in heat I swear." He shook his head. 

"Jealous?" Dean asked. 

"NO! Perverts." Sam rolled his eyes. 

“Not completely accurate but... ah... don’t make the mistake of turning the porn channel on, then you might get an eyeful,” Spike threatened, not at all kidding. There was only so much he could take with Dean’s sweet round ass pressed against his cock, and the occasional light thrusts he was stealing. “Let’s watch the History channel, could be fun.” Could put Sam to sleep sooner. “Maybe they have something on the Battle of the Bulge.” 

"Like you need to watch the History channel," Sam rolled his eyes. He switched the station to land on a nice a marathon of 'Ice Truckers' and all he could think of was that it should cool those two off. 

"Hey, picking on my brother is my job," Dean ribbed Spike as he saw the show. "Only you would find that station." 

“It’s you I’m picking on,” Spike slid his body against Dean’s backside, then put his head on Dean’s shoulder and feigned great interest in the show. Feeling Sam’s speculative look again, he was good... real good. As good as a bloody horny vampire could be, least-ways. 

* * *

Another week passed. Things were better than they had been in a long time. They boys were using all their connections in trying to find a way to get Dean out of his contract. Time was ticking and they were under tremendous pressure but things were still good.

Bobby Singer was called and he said he had been searching high and low, but got nothing. He did send Sam all he had on a demon called Lilith, supposedly the first wife of Adam and possibly the first demon ever. An ancient, she’d had many years to grow strong. If she was one of the demons to crawl out of the hell's mouth, she would be one of the strongest and likely a candidate of the rising power from the West.

Other than that, the three men were growing closer as a family. Sam and Dean would pick on Spike. Spike and Dean would rag on Sam, then Sam and Spike would gang up on Dean. That was the most fun, at least from the younger Winchester’s perspective. He had even started to allow Spike to call him Sammy without bitching about it.

However, the deal was weighing heavy on the older Winchester as well. He wanted to live. He didn't want to leave Spike or Sam. But whoever held his contract, they still wouldn't give it up. There was only two weeks left. Time was ticking like a big clock in Dean's head and with each passing day, it kept getting louder.

 

They had highs and lows, but the highs in their lives made the lows bearable.

*****

It was agreed - they would meet. With the help of the watchers, Spike had finally learned the name of the demon who now held Dean's contract. The information from Bobby had made it possible to contact her, and now, as he had waited in a old warehouse, he was very cautious and aware of what was going on around him. 

The door opened and an imposing mad walked in. Before he could say a thing to the man he thought was here to meet him, the demon looked around then motioned to the door.

The unexpected sight of a young girl walking in, holding a woman’s hand, has Spike’s eyebrow quirking. 

The pair walked up to the vampire. The little girl looked the Vampire over and then spoke, "William the Bloody. Not the same since you got your soul. Pity. How is Dru? Oh and Angel. Now he was fun too. Angelus. Is that why you are here? Cause you want what you had with them back?"

“Dru and Angel are gone,” he answered, as matter of factly as he could, though he had the feeling this strange child saw right through him, even with those milky white eyes. “Why a child?” he demanded, 

"Silly question for someone like you to ask," she tipped her head at him. "Would you suspect a child?"

 

Time for a bit of flattery. “Didn’t think one so powerful as you would need to hide behind a disguise. “And who’s she?” he jutted his chin toward the woman holding Lilith’s hand. “She your bodyguard?”

 

"Servant, you remember what those are like," She answered. "And it's not hiding, it's knowing your adversary. Humans find it so hard to take the life of a child."

 

He gave her a nod. She knew what she was doing, that was certain. “I need help. You wouldn’t be in a generous mood, would you?” 

"Depends, William, or would you prefer I call you Spike. Since that is the name you go by now." She pulled her hand away from the woman. "What is the help you are asking for? And no lies," she warned. “I’ll know.”

He thought about lying, but he suspected she was telling the truth when she said she’d know. Then there was the problem of being unable to get what he wanted without telling her. “I want someone’s soul. Git made a deal to give it up. His time is short.” Sam wasn’t around, and he could deal with his own conscience and Dean’s reactions later, he told himself, as he continued. “I’m here to make a deal. His soul, for ... another appearance by William the Bloody.”

Lilith gave an exasperated look, "I thought you would be a little more creative." She drew a breath, "Your sword in blood for a little human soul. A one Dean Winchester. Am I correct?" She placed her hands behind her back. "Do you really think William the Bloody is worth that soul?"

“Depends on what that soul’s wanted for,” he shrugged. “I don’t think his is any more special than the next person’s. Demons collect souls all the time... one that got Dean’s has probably got a long list of souls on its tally.” He itched for a drink, or a shower. “One soul, when I can bring ten? Must be something you want. Something your... servants can’t do right. Some one… something you want killed.” 

Lilith finally moved and started walking a wide circle around him, "I'm surprised at how you are trying to hide how much you care for that one soul." She stopped behind him, "It's worth something to you. But that soul, is worth more to me. A one Dean Winchester. Father raised him as a hunter. To help with his little brother who is as they call, the next 'boy king,'" she said the last part with annoyance. "Not to mention all the deaths he caused, finding the weapon to kill us." She walked around him to stand before him again, "Unrelenting in his hunt. Not to mention his cockiness, in which you know about, his arrogance. “Oh, his soul is more valuable than you think. A good tool to use against his brother. I'm surprised he's not here instead of you. What is your reasons, William?" She tipped her head, "Don't tell me you actually care for this one? I mean if you do, why? Cause he fills the void left by Dru and Angelus?"

Child or not, he wanted to smash that little face. A muscle flexed in his jaw as he stared at her, eyes hot with barely reined in emotion. “Reason’s irrelevant. Listen, I know him... if you think he’s a pain in your arse now, he’ll find a way to be a bigger one wherever his soul goes. I know he will, You mark words, yeah?” He shifted, looked away and then back at her. “You don’t need my sword. How about my promise... Sam will never be that boy King. You have more chance of him being kept under control if I’m there to watch him, and more importantly, his brother. They won’t stop hunting... but there are hundreds of hunters out there, they’re just a drop in the bucket as far as hunters go. But there’s one boy King to be stopped.” He thought maybe he had the ticket, maybe this would do it.

"Hmm, your word, Boy King will not bother being one. While the world falls under our control around him." She about laughed but then got serious, "I'm not a fool, William. I know those brothers. I know their Daddy really well. Dean's soul is mine and you, and Sam want it back because you love him. Yes. I know your reasons and they are relevant." She stepped closer. "You want Dean's soul, I want his soul. So we are at a crossroads, so to speak. Where it all started. You want a deal. Here is the deal." She paused to see if he was listening.

Listen to a demon. Always a bad thing. He nodded, and leaned down when she gestured so she could whisper her deal in his ear. She was nothing short of wicked as she forced his answer without allowing him time to think, or to speak with Sam. 

“Yes.” Answering her, he got up and strode to the door. Maybe it wouldn’t go wrong. Maybe.


	13. Chapter 13

The blistering heat of the day hadn’t dissipated even though it was well into the night. If Sam told him again that ‘it’s a dry heat,’ Spike was going to punch him. Right, it wasn’t anything the younger Winchester did, not really. It was the stakes. Fucking hell, he had to win. 

The old western ghost town in the middle of the Mojave desert was alive tonight. Alive with things you didn’t want to bump into at night. Vampires, demons, spirits who’d managed to find a way to become corporeal... big time gamblers. Their clothes ran the gamut ... tattered by time, ancient, modern, leather and lace. It was a good thing he and Sam had left Dean’s ass behind, because that particular hunter would want to kill everything here and ask questions later. 

Spike’s gut tightened at the thought of Dean. It wasn’t his wrath that worried him. Sitting at the wooden bar, he knocked back another drink and looked over at the poker table. After hours of play, a warm up of sorts, they were taking a break before 'the main event.' He had a nice pile of winnings stacked at his place. Cash... and even more valuable, ‘I owe you a wish’ type notes from each player. But there was only one hand he was interested in winning. 

Licking the whiskey off his dry lips, his gaze met Sam's across the room. He almost laughed as Sam nicely tried to get rid of a saloon girl, a very authentically dressed one at that. The bloke wore a serious but exasperated look as he tried to do his job – watching Spike's back, while Spike took care of the winning. And if he ever needed to win, now was it.

Sam managed to get the wandering hands and arms off him and made his way over to Spike. He looked at the vampire’s drink, then let his gaze roam over the others in the large room. Demons were watching him closely too. Sam had to refrain from using his abilities to clear the room but he had a feeling more demons would flood the area if he did. "So," he spoke finally.

“So.” Spike lit up and turned to look at Sam’s serious face. “Game’s still on.” He blew the smoke out toward the bar, then turned back. “Tell me again we’re doing the right thing.”

 

"We're doing the right thing. When is the other player coming?" He asked.

 

Spike gave a shrug. “Playing the game of ‘make em sweat.’ We just have to make sure they never see us sweating. Want a smoke?” He knew the answer, but casually brought his pack out anyway.

Sam looked at Spike then turned as he heard a door swing open. He saw a woman with a little girl walking over toward the table. "Who is that?" He asked. Spike didn't say much about Lilith other than the deal. He turned back to Spike as the little girl took a seat.

Dropping the pack onto the bar top, Spike cursed. “That would be Lilith. Bloody diabolical to come in that disguise again and force me to read the expressions of a child.” He grimaced and stood up. “I’d best get about winning to make certain you’re not left alone and to your own devices.”

"That? That is Lilith?" Sam looked at the child and he saw the wisdom in possessing a child. Shit this demon was smart. Shit, she was really smart. He followed Spike to stand near him at the table.

“William. Samuel," Lilith greeted them both as she was pushed in. "I see you entertained yourself while you waited. Sorry I am late, I was busy and my conversation took a little while longer than I anticipated." Of course she wasn't saying it was with the very man whose soul Spike was trying to win.

“Lilith,” Spike acknowledged, then whispered to Sam, “no good luck kiss? It’s customary,” chuckling at the sour look the untimely joke earned him, he sat down across from the child.

Clearing his mind of all thoughts, Spike made sure his voice was as bland as his face. “Let’s get this over with. What are we doing? Four out of seven?” That would give him a bit of time to study her reactions and maybe get an edge. Maybe. He wasn’t under any illusions that it was going to be easy.

 

"Four out of seven is good." She answered as a glass of milk was set before her. She took a drink then set it down. "But we’re playing for chips. Whoever has the most at the end of seven hands wins. You may deal first." She sat back as she heard the door swing open and knew who it was.

Concentrating hard on not giving his thoughts away, any of them... anything that would give her an edge, he started to shuffle. He tried to ignore the milk, and her innocent expression. This game wasn’t over money or over cats. This was life or death.

From the new pile of chips her servant had brought over, he made a conservative bet, and saw that she did the same. Then he dealt out five cards each, put the deck down and picked up his hand without looking at it. Instead, he was watching her reactions.

Lilith left the cards where they were as the figure walked over. She didn’t smirk, but looked the perfect picture of childhood innocence.

Dean walked up to them and saw the cards down on the table. "Why didn't you tell me," he snapped.

Sam jerked his head up and saw his brother, "Dean? What are you doing here?" 

Dean just glared at the two.

 _Sodding hell._ Spike gripped the cards and stared at _her innocence_... not. “Try to keep a gasket on it, yeah? This game’s bloody important. To me.”

 

"To you? I'm a better card player. Why didn't you tell me." Dean moved around behind Spike and looked at the little girl.

"Dean," Sam placed his hand upon his brother, "Just let Spike handle this, okay. Please."

Lilith picked up her cards and then placed two cards down for him to deal to her in exchange.

She was quick to decide. Did she have three of a kind in there? Spike spread his cards slowly. Fuck. Dropping three, he passed her replacement cards and dealt three to himself. As if his hand wasn’t bad enough, he swore he could feel Dean’s gaze drilling into his back.

"Glad you could join us, Dean," She spoke without looking up from her cards. 

"Well you know how much I like games," Dean answered in watching her. 

"Yes, you humans love games till you lose," She looked to Spike at last. "Did William tell you what the stakes are?" 

Dean looked at Spike and Sam as well.

“Game’s between you and me.” _Bitch_. “Leave him out of this.” He knew she was trying to rattle him, knew he shouldn’t let her. “Make your call.” 

"Oh but I think he should know, don't you, Sam?" she asked in throwing in another chip. "I raise you." She looked straight-faced at Spike. 

Sam swallowed, "Just play the game." 

Dean looked between then and had a pit form in his stomach he wasn't liking.

 

He had shit for cards, but Spike wanted to know whether her bet was based on a bluff. It was early in the game and he could afford the chips, so he matched her.. and tossed in a bit extra. Ball was in her court again.

Behind him, he heard some shifting about. Knew it had to be Dean getting angsty. That boy couldn’t sit still in the passenger seat if his life depended on it.

Dean saw more chips being tossed in and then he reached for one of Spike's and was looking it over.

Lilith called then placed her cards down. She had queens high. "Well, William?" She sat forward like a child would, legs kicking under the table.

Spike was only slightly more irritated by her voice, than he was of Dean playing with his chips at this critical moment. Shooting the hunter a ‘back off’ look, he put his cards down and shoved the pile of chips toward her. “Deal,” he snarled. “Let’s get on with it.”

Demons and other dark creatures started to close in on the game, watching the showdown with interest. The saloon girl was back at Sam’s side, stroking the hair out of his eyes and giggling at the intensity with which he watched the game.

Sam looked at the girl and his power radiated off him with irritation. "Do you mind," he pushed her away and moved over to Dean, noticing he kept rolling the chip over in his fingers. "What is it?" he whispered.

"The chips. They aren't money chips, they are soul chips," he tossed it down on the table.

Lilith just smirked as she was shuffling the cards. "Glad one of you noticed, since after all, it is a high stakes game." She dealt out the cards and looked at hers.

“What the fuck... we’re not trading souls here,” Spike ground out, meeting her gaze. Oh, but that was exactly what they were doing, with or without the bloody chips. Resisting the urge to scrub his face with his hands, he opened up his cards, again one at a time, smirking slightly as he pushed a hefty sum of chips to the center of the table to add to the original bet, and set his cards down. “No cards.”

The irony made the little girl smirk. She matched him and opened her cards. 

What were the odds? They both had three bloody fucking jacks. The chips stayed in the middle.

The hands went on and on, each round, each minute stretching to hours inside Spike’s mind. At least Sam had been able to keep Dean from being distracting... or Dean had seen the seriousness of the nature of the game.

The room all but crackled with energy and excitement as the game came to a head. Lilith and Spike had each won three games. Their piles of chips were almost equal, but most chips were in the middle of the table. 

 

It was down to the last hand, so she drew out a green chip. The only one in the stack. She held it up for Spike to see then sat it down. It was his deal.

Dean noticed the chip. "What is that?"

Spike felt parched. “Get me some whiskey.” His hand closed around the sole red chip in his pile... signifying William the Bloody. He put it in the center, on top of the green chip. Win or lose.... they’d be on the same sodding side of hell.

Five cards each, he dealt them slowly. If ever there was a time to pray, this was it.

She picked up her cards, face as straight as ever. "So this is it." 

Sam stood by Dean, his heart beating fast. He was having trouble keeping control over his power, especially since all he could think about was Spike losing and himself losing his brother... losing both of them.

Dean crouched down, "What is that red chip?" he asked Spike.

Releasing him, Spike finally picked up the cards and looked at them. Possibility Royal flush... if he pulled the right card. Or he could change four of his cards. Bloody fucking hell, everything rode on his decision. Everything.

“I ask for a drink, you ask questions.” Spike’s expression hardened. He was about to tell Dean to go the bar, but when their eyes met, something shifted inside him. “Don’t go ‘round the bend’,” he said, gripping Dean’s forearm. “It’s me. No more questions.”

Dean looked at the chips then at the cards then at the child across the table. These were high stakes and he felt his jaw tighten, pulse. Nothing he could do about it now. "Sam, go get Spike a drink." 

When Sam left, Dean reached for Spike's cards, pulled four and tossed them down. His expression was nothing but confidence.

Clamping down on the protest that hadn’t had time to leave his lips, Spike stared down at the four new cards laying face-down in front of him. Then he looked up at her.

Lilith quirked an eyebrow then tossed two out.

This was it, the hour of reckoning. Spike waited until Sam got back. Knocking back most of the liquor, he turned over his first card. She emulated him.

One by one, each turned over another. She had two kings and a queen. He had an Ace, a ten and a three. If he weren’t dead already, he would be now. 

Gritting his teeth, Spike turned over his next card. Ace. His two aces against her two kings. Unless she had another king in there...

Dean slapped his hand over Spike's last card. "We are gonna give you a choice, little girl." He knew that got her cause she glared at him, "You can back out now. We win, you walk out of here with some dignity. You don't bother us again. Ever." 

She tipped her head to him. "You afraid you will lose?"

Dean looked at her straight in the eyes, "No, are you?"

Spike was, and so was Sam, because they knew. If they stretched this moment forever, if they just sat here and... “There’s no turning back,” Spike finally said, “flip it.”

She flipped her card over, revealing it to be another King card. She sat back, "Better hope that is another ace."

Dean shifted, "Last chance to back out. I would hate to see you embarrassed." He paused, "Okay, I lied." He lifted the card, looking at it himself before looking back at her, "Once more, you sure you want to do this?"

Spike was ready to kill Dean himself, if a part of him wasn’t also telling him delay might be good... depending on what was under the bloody card.

Lilith looked to Spike then to Dean. Spike had no idea what the card was. But Dean did. She looked at him again, straight in the eyes. She shifted uncomfortably then gave him a pissed off look. "Flip the card, Winchester. You are gonna loose. Your soul will be mine and William will be my warrior."

Dean looked at Spike then at the card. "Is that what this is about?"

The answer was in Spike’s eyes for Dean to read. But Spike was also quickly putting two and two together. The little bitch was worried. She was trying to get Dean to offer a draw again... she’d keep her green chip, Spike would keep the red, and all this would be for nothing. But Dean... Dean had been certain. Before he knew what was at stake, he’d been certain.

“Flip it.” Spike stood up. “The chips stay together. Always.” His gaze met Dean’s. 

Dean let the card fly as Lilith got up and stood on her chair to watch it fall. She watched it flip in the air as it flew and when it landed, the ace of hearts showed. 

Lilith's eyes flared as she saw the card. How on Earth could ... but then she realized who had touched the cards and changed Spike’s luck. Dean. "You cheated!" She snapped.

Dean looked at her, grabbing the red and green chips and swiping the cash Spike had won earlier, as well, "Nice knowing you." 

"Let's get out of here," Sam started shoving the two toward the exit.

"You cheated!" Lilith shouted like a little girl.

“Room full of people, there was no cheating. Nice doing business with you.” Oh Spike wanted to let curses fly at her, to tell her what he really thought. But he was too relieved, too happy to waste too much time gloating. And somewhere in the back of his mind a voice whispered this might not be the last time they’d have to deal with her.

Forgetting the cash, the bits of papers promising favors... forgetting everything, but the fact that the green and red chips were in Dean’s hand, Spike left with the brothers as they headed out, forcing the crowd to part before them. 

The heat outside was even more oppressive than inside, but Spike hardly noticed. They stood for a moment next to the Impala, and the car Sam had borrowed. 

Dean opened up the car door, "You know, the next time you two do this, you let me know."

“Dean, if we let you know you would have burned this place down." Sam was digging for his keys. "Look, I'll take the car back and meet you two back at the motel. Bobby will pick me up." 

"Get in the car, hair boy," Dean climbed in, starting the car.

“Sam.” Spike gave him a lopsided grin. “Right decision.” 

Slapping his palm down twice on the roof of the impala, and smirking at the warnings that erupted at him from inside the car, he got in and pulled the door shut. “Can we put the arguing off until after the celebrating? Figure we have about two hours uninterrupted time before Sam gets back.” He had to shout because of the bleeding loud music.

Dean reached into his jacket pocket and handed the winnings over to Spike, "Dude, you suck at cards and besides, she had a tell." He smirked over at Spike, "You could see the card colors in her white eyes. I’ve have always been very lucky in cards or any games for that matter." That was one thing his father always told him, Dean had a knack for winning. And win he did. Most of the time.

Closing his fist tightly around the two precious chips, Spike leaned over and spoke in Dean’s ear. “You stop selling your soul, and I’ll stop playing cards.” Gripping the back of his head, he kissed him then, hard, the way a man did when he was offered a second chance. “Right...step on it now... certain things that need taking care of...” His voice was husky, his body hard and ready, when he pulled away and leaned back.

* * * 

It was very late and no one was around in the parking lot outside the motel. That knowledge was all it took for Spike to start mauling Dean right up against the car. Alive, his hunter was alive and would keep his life. All Spike had to worry about now was to keep fighting the temptation to turn him. Now that Dean no longer needed to be a vampire, he’d damned well better start to help in that department.

Dean barely had time to close the car door when he felt his back pressed to the cool metal of the car. His mouth was ravished and forced open so their tongues could work against each other. Dean gave a moan, pressing his hips against Spike's leg. They didn't have much time before Sam returned, and possibly with Bobby for that matter. He spun them around, the pair rolling off the car. By the time they got to the room, Dean was still kissing Spike as he fumbled with the key to get the door open.

It gave way behind him and the pair tumbled into the room. Their mouths might have lost contact but their bodies didn’t. Dean rolled and twisted until his back was to the door and it was closing under his weight as he pulled Spike in for another ravaging kiss. This time he was taking control, battling to dominate.

Knowing the line between winning and losing had never been narrower, Spike was a mess of emotions. Relieved. Hot. Horny. There was no control in the way he kissed Dean back, and none in the way his fingers bit into the hunter’s shoulders and back, as he greedily gave and took what they each needed. 

They crashed into a chest of drawers, sending Dean’s precious knives and a gun scattering to the ground… but neither one stopped or cared. In the shower, on the floor… against the wall, on the bed… everywhere and every which way was how Spike wanted Dean. They had the rest of their lives together, but he wondered if that… if this would ever be enough.

Somehow, they found themselves in the doorway between the room and the bathroom. Spike peeled himself away and helped Dean take his shirt… shirts off. “All these bloody layers,” he complained thickly. 

Dean's shirts could not come off fast enough. the outter shirt was pulled off, sleeves inside out while the tee shirt was pulled over his head. Dean's body was hot, his chest heaved with each heated breath. He mouth was dry and yet moist at once as he kissed the vampire. 

 

Once his shirts were off, Dean grabbed Spike's tee at the hem and pulled it roughly up over his head. Dean was tempted to use it against his lover but couldn't wait to get it off him so he flung it to the side with the rest of the clothing. "Don't ever do that to me again."

“What, kiss you?” Spike dodged Dean’s mouth, “you sure about that?” His heated gaze traveled up and down Dean’s heaving chest, then lower to the very defined bulge in his pants. 

"The card game. You and Sam not telling me." His mouth reached for Spike, kissing his firm lips. He pulled back, reaching down to get those leather pants open. "I've been lied to nearly all my life, I don’t want that again, ever."

Spike’s hand slipped down Dean’s shoulders and arms, until he had the hunter’s wrists in a vice-like grip… hovering over his zipper, torturing both of them with the wait. “And you… you NEVER sell your soul… you life. Don’t want that again, ever,” he said firmly, suddenly dragging Dean’s arms high above his head and putting the hunter’s hands on either side of the door frame. It was a tight squeeze, but they both stood facing each other inside the door frame. 

"What if’s to save you?" His fingers grabbed the door frame over his head and he rocked his hips, rubbing himself against Spike.

“Especially not for that,” he answered hotly until he realized Dean was teasing. That deserved torture. “Alright Hero, no touching me with your hands.” Smirking, Spike put his own hands one either side of Dean’s waist, and gripped the door frames, pulling himself up hard against Dean’s body. Both of them hard, and heavy, they rocked silently against each other for a while.

Spike started to kiss Dean. His ear, his chin… then his throat, paying special attention to his sensitive spots. By the time trailed wet kisses down to one pebbling nipple, he was rewarded by curses and demands.

Dean felt his breath hitch a few times. Spike was driving him insane and over the edge which had him resorting to cursing and begging. A few times, his fingers slipped off the door frame but went right back on it. Dean hissed and let his head fall back.

As Dean shuddered under Spike’s mouth, the vampire almost gave the game up. But a part of him knew how much Dean liked it… being forced to give up control to someone else, even for a short time. It made the end so much sweeter. 

Nipping Dean’s belly with his lips, Spike finally let go of the door frame and squeezed Dean’s arse, then pulled him closer as he mouthed his cock over his jeans. When he felt the hunter start to thrust, he quickly unzipped him and dragged his pants and shorts off.

Without hesitation, he dropped to his knees and took Dean inside his mouth… all of him, squeezing his waist and arse each time he slid his hands up and down the hunter’s body, and dragged him close as he sucked and pulled off, and sucked again. “Like that, do you?” he asked, dragging a finger down behind Dean’s sac and pressing lightly.

Spike knew just how to work Dean up. To make him do as he wished and to have him swearing like no other. He rolled his eyes back in his head and as Spike took him down, a deep throaty moan that rattle in his chest left him. He looked down at the vampire, "You know I do," He lifted his leg a bit, wanting more.

Dean’s leg ground into Spike’s chest. Before the vampire realized it, the hunter had worked his leg over his shoulder and was fucking his mouth and getting all the pressure he wanted and needed. For a few minutes, Spike allowed it, enjoying the desperate movements, and the sound of Dean’s heart straining… pumping. It was a double edged sword this… he took pleasure in winding Dean up, but Dean’s reactions inflamed his own needs.

Pulling off suddenly, he got up and moved behind Dean, pushing him forward so there would be enough place for him. Pressing his cock up against Dean’s arse, he crossed his arms around Dean… stroking, his chest, his abs, his thighs… brushing over his cock, making him thrash back and forth. Each time Dean’s arse ground into him, Spike made a noise near the hunter’s ear. “What do you think, this enough payback for selling your soul?” Bloody, fucking, hell… he was burning up with need now. 

 

Dean turned his head slightly, his lips so close to Spike's. His heart was beating hard, the blood rushed in his ears, through his body. His cock ached. "I ..." Spike was leaving Dean unable to speak so he just nodded, "Yeah," finally came the word. If he wasn't fucked soon, Dean swore he was gonna explofe or just die from this torture.

He could tell Dean was at the end of his tether… and about bloody time too. He kissed him once, hard… his tongue’s motions suggestive, and then he pulled away. As he walked out of the doorframe, he could feel the weight of Dean’s heated gaze.

Hands on his buckle, he undid them, and his pants, then pushed them half way down his arse. Dropping down to all fours, he started crawling toward the bed, then looked over his shoulder at the sight of one hell of a flushed Dean still obediently standing with his arms up. “Punishment’s over. Come get your prize for winning. Come fuck me… if you want.”

Those words, and the sight of Spike's inviting pale ass, had Dean hardening even more. His body wanted, needed to be near Spike, over him, inside him… to have him however he could have him. 

Dean didn't move for what seemed like an eternity was in reality only a mere breath. In a few short steps, he was at Spike, so anxious, he practically grabbed and tossed him up on the bed. 

Screw getting the pants off the rest of the way. It was wasted time, something Dean didn't want to let get by him once again. He used his own spit for lube as he guided his cock into his lover.   
It was painful at first, just a brief moment till his crown got inside and a sound escaped past Dean's lips. And then he leaned over Spike, "Never thought I could need someone so much," he mouthed against Spike's spine as he worked his cock deeper.

Despite the blinding flash of pain, Spike forced himself to relax, and pushed back on his knees, swallowing hard at Dean’s admission. “Makes two of us, luv.” For an instant, he tensed, wondering about the effect the word would have on Dean. But when Dean started to fuck him, everything was right with the world again.

He felt Dean’s cock brush his prostate and made a chocking sound of approval. “Right there… again,” grinding his arse against Dean, he threw his hand back behind Dean’s head, “fuck me,” he demanded, bringing his mouth as close to Dean’s as he could. “Come on. Need you.”

Dean shivered at the word. Luv. He hadn't heard that word enough in his life and when he could get it, it had a near devastating effect of him. As Spike’s blunt nails scraped his back and neck, Dean leaned in and tried to kiss him back.

Gripping Spike’s hips, Dean drove into Spike, fast, hard, slow then hard again, making sure he got that sound and approval from Spike each time his cock brushed his prostate. Sweat dripped from him onto his lover as he fucked him like he was told. The heat, the pressure built inside him until it felt like his heart was gonna explode out of his chest. His teeth scraped along Spike’s skin, their mouth’s met and parted. Everything became just a blur of emotions, desires, needs till it reached a point where it could not be contained.

Time stood still. Spike’s world narrowed. It was just them now…. Him… Dean… no bullshit, no pretending. It felt good, it was physical, it was an addiction… a need, but it was also a lot more than that. It was love, and loyalty, and a future that had seemed impossible only a short time ago. He ached to tell Dean what was in his heart, in his soul… ached to find the words… but in the end, he just showed him.

He moved up and down, back and forth, following Dean’s cues, squeezing his muscles around the hunter’s cock, reveling in the sounds he made. Straining to lean back, he kissed him. “God… Dean… don’t stop,” he pleaded, heat pounding… raging through his veins. He started to stroke his cock, fucking his fist, fucking Dean’s cock, slowly going mad as he gave in completely to his lusty needs.

Don't stop is what he said. Like Dean had any intention let alone will power to do so. Spike was his addiction, and Dean could admit to that now. Just as he'd admitted to loving the vampire. So he raged on, driving into Spike and mouthing words of endearment against skin. 

 

Dean ground his hips, his cock surging in and out. He drove Spike down into the bed as the pair moved as one. At times, Dean would pull Spike against him, hold him tightly to him for a brief pause before their actions grew frantic and they were falling forward again. Soon, Dean's insides were boiling. He was nearing the end. His whole body was tightening up and he was gasping for air. "Sp ... Spike, I ..." The rest fell away as his body ignited and he was releasing into Spike.

 

"Sodding hell... yes," Spike gave a strangled response as the burning and urgent throbbing finally gave way to waves of pleasure. His face was pushed into the mattress, his hands clenching around the sheets, and he should be hating this... but all he could think about was Dean had claimed him, possessed him... that they'd come full circle somehow. Licking his dry lips, he started to turn as soon as Dean moved off. 

Their gazes locked. Their eyes spoke the words that were in their hearts. Spike knew that now they had the time to learn to say them. Leaning in, he kissed his lover hard, claiming him right back, taking possession of his mouth, of his soul as he pushed him back and put his hand on the side of his face. "No more making deals with those devils. That means both of us," he said, his voice brooking no argument. After their experience, he didn't expect any... not even from his rebellious hunter. 

Dean stared into those eyes and all that could come out of him was a nod, "No more deals," he breathed. He pulled Spike tighter against him, just a few more moments before they would have to get up and clean up before Sam got back. Dean just wanted to bask in the warmth for a while. Just a little while. 

They kissed a bit more, until Dean had to do that human thing... breathe. Dean looked so relaxed, it made Spike want to suggest they stay in bed. One way to nip that idea in the bud was to get Dean fired up about something. "Tomorrow. I get to drive, yeah?" He'd been dead on, there was fire and rebellion in the hunter's eyes, even before he spoke. Smirking, Spike dragged him out of the bed. "Come on, Cinderella... we can discuss it in the shower."

Excuse me," Dean followed, "So not driving my car. I have the bench seat set just right. Bad enough I have to adjust it for Sam's long legs, not gonna for your shorty short short legs." He pushed into the shower then pinned Spike there. "You want to drive my car, you gotta earn it."

Spike turned the water on, unflinching under the cold spray that mostly hit Dean. Leaning his head against the tile, he raised an eyebrow. “Thought I earned it. You got your prize in there,” he nodded toward the bedroom as he slid his hand between them and reached for Dean’s cock. “Way I figure, my turn for a prize.”

Dean jumped at the cold water, cursing under his breath. However the water soon turned just right and he turned his attention back to Spike. Dean leaned in and kissed him. "Now I'm a prize?"

“You’re a bloody pain in the arse, is what you are…” chuckling, Spike reversed their positions, still stroking Dean and bringing him to attention, just the way he liked. He loved watching his eyes change… go from sharp and aware to soft and unfocused. “Ever since you walked into my life, you’ve been trouble. The sort I can’t forget… or put behind me. Don’t smile… didn’t say it was a compliment… more of a complaint, yeah?” 

It was true. The first few times Dean had met up with him at the club, he’d thought he was being casual, that they both were. Then it had grown into some sort of vicious longing… a need, one that he’d had to hide. And when he’d failed to hide it, there had been consequences. 

He kissed him then, kissed him hard, and started to move his mouth down Dean’s water slicked neck, and chest, slowly getting down on his knees.

Dean still smirked, "I tend to have that effect," he gave a chuckle as he placed his leg on the edge of the tube behind Spike and melting,. Resting one hand on the tile and the other on Spike's shoulder, he tipped his head back and released a swear through tightly closed teeth. Now his hips bucked into Spike's hand wanting more. It always amazed Dean how quickly Spike could get him worked up.

Spike teased Dean with a few passes of his mouth, but knew they were short on time. The next time Dean’s hips jerked forward, he took him… all of him, from base to crown, deep in his throat and hummed. He could hear Dean’s heart kick up a notch, felt him strain and suck in his breath. No games this time, he gave the hunter exactly what he needed… all the pressure he wanted and all the tongue action he needed. When he started to feel him stiffen, he cupped Dean’s sac and squeezed gently, urging him on.

 

Dean’s blunt nails dug into Spike's skin. He gasped for air as he watched Spike sucking him. Soft curses spilled from his mouth before he jerked and gave up what Spike wanted.

An incredible sense of power flowed through Spike at the thought of how quickly he’d gotten Dean hard after the last round of sex, and the knowledge he could do it again. He pulled off slowly, and rose, kissing Dean and letting him taste himself as he started to lather his back with soap. “We’d best hurry.”

Dean panted and was pretty sedated as he wrapped his arms around Spike and took the kiss. He tasted good on Spike, their mix was very heady to him. He pulled the vampire tight against him. "We best, you’re right," he breathed against Spike.

*

By the time Bobby dropped Sam off, Spike was standing in the doorway of the motel room, having a smoke. The younger Winchester seemed to have a problem with him smoking inside, and this was a bit of a compromise.

He moved to let Sam walk in, and turned his head. “Suppose you girls will be wanting a moment to yourselves?”

Sam stopped in looking at Spike, he held a bag in his hand. Blood, his biscuits, some snacks for Dean and beer with a bottle of whiskey. "No come on in, I brought you guys some things." 

Dean looked up from sharpening his knife. "Dude, what took you so long?" 

"I was picking up supplies." Sam answered in emptying the bag.

“You’re looking serious … we’ll need to get some drinks into you and have a proper party, yeah?” Turning his head, Spike blew a few ringlets of smoke out the door, then turned back. “Though you might say we’ve done out celebrating.” His gaze drifted to Dean, then back.

Sam glanced back then shook his head, "I'm really glad," he looked back to his brother, "You aren't going to hell, Dean." 

"You aren't gonna hug me are you?" Dean looked at Sam with that face of his that told he could feel it coming.

"What if I did?" Sam asked.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Dean groaned.

Sam walked over and pulled Dean up, hugging him. "Don't ever do that again."

“That’s funny, it didn’t make him sick when I hugged him. Or when I—“ Sensing Sam tense at the potential onslaught of too much information, Spike merely smirked. “You can let him go now. Getting jealous here.”

"Yeah, let go of me, jerk," Dean pushed back.

"Bitch," Sam answered back.

"Woa, wait, that is my line," Dean countered.

"Yeah and?" Sam smirked.

"Bitch," Dean grumbled.

"Jerk," Sam chuckled.

“Bastards.” When both brothers looked at him, Spike shrugged. “Don’t like to be left out, yeah?”

Both looked at each other then headed for him, "Okay don't want to feel left out?" Dean answered.

Sam grabbed Spike, Dean threw the smoke out the door and kicked it closed as he dove into them both and the two started wrestling with Spike.

THE END  
(A/N - The final story in the series is Darkness Falls. Please note that things change significantly in the next part - it will be S/D/S and vamp!Dean.


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